


start a riot

by IvyPrincess



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Attempt at Humor, Cyberterrorism, Dubious Morality, Found Family, Game: Watch Dogs 2, Gen, Hacking, Illegal Activities, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Interactive, Team Dynamics, Unreliable Narrator, none of this was planned, the friends that do crime together stay together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 59,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23791606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvyPrincess/pseuds/IvyPrincess
Summary: It's been years since the disaster of 2035, and a new generation of hackers are ready to overthrow a corrupted, immoral, profit-hungry regime. They call themselves DreamSec, and they're here to stay. But are they threats themselves...or have they become freedom's last line of defense?
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 11
Kudos: 85





	1. Introduction, Part I

It's been years since the disaster of 2035, and a new generation of hackers are ready to overthrow a corrupted, immoral, profit-hungry regime. They call themselves DreamSec, and they're here to stay. But are they threats themselves... or have they become freedom’s last line of defense?

Mark’s been itching for revenge since his older brother was shot in the DedSec raid. Just because the rest of the world’s given up on Seoul doesn’t mean he has. He’s sure he’ll find like minded recruits. He’ll do whatever it takes, even if that means lying to the people he loves.

His first recruit? Huang Renjun.

The boy’s a vicious piece of work, a self-taught hacker through sheer spite after getting shafted from a top university because of some rich kid who stole his academic stats by switching their ctOS profiles. If anyone’s holding a grudge, it’s him. He’s at his wit’s end, he’s got nothing left to lose, and he’s going for the kill. He’ll be a worthy teammate, if Mark can convince him to think first and shoot second.

The next name on Mark’s list? Lee Jeno.

A notorious underground brawler, he’s one of many whose lives were ruined by ctOS’s predictive algorithm. Jeno’s got some issues, some of which the algorithm exaggerated, none of which he’ll tell you about. The government wrote him off as a lost cause, dropped his status score so hard he’ll never be able to have the life he deserves. After dark, he’s heavily in debt to a ring boss who won’t let such a prized dog go. During the day, he works on a construction site willing to hire a Zero for minimal pay. Too bad for them they’ll never find out where their explosives keep disappearing to. Jeno’s got golden hands, capable of assembling anything from bombs to nanobots with the right materials. Society might not realize his value, but Mark has.

Zhong Chenle accepts the invite enthusiastically enough.

He’s young, but he’s gone through enough that it’s a miracle he’s kept that happy-go-lucky attitude. Coming from a massively wealthy background in China, his parents played scapegoat for a massive market scare machinated by ctOS’s conglomerate allies. He’s the only one who managed to get out of the country fast enough. His family are safe, if under heavy surveillance, and Chenle’s learned to make a living for himself trading on the black market. Drugs, weapons, organs, information: you name it, he can find it. It’s a dirty living, but one he excels at. Having him along will make things much easier. Just don’t ask where your goods came from. You won’t like the answer.

Park Jisung is a package deal.

Wherever Chenle goes, Jisung won’t be more than two feet away. Unless he’s out on an… excursion. An expedition where he comes back with more things than he left with. He’s a prodigy of a pickpocket, nimble fingers lifting anything that isn’t nailed down, and quite a few things that were. Unlike the rest of the team, he’s aimless. Bored. Only here to protect his best friend as he waded through a swamp of the worst of humanity. They were already doing well enough for themselves, but the surveillance net is tightening, and Chenle wants to do what he can to make the world a safer place. What’s Jisung supposed to do, say no? Keep your wits about you around this one, or he’ll take those, too.

Now Na Jaemin is an unexpected, if not unwelcome, surprise.

Jaemin’s no recruit at all. Mark came home one day to find Korea’s top rookie idol sprawled on his sagging couch like it was a throne. He knows about DreamSec, Jaemin tells him. He wants in. Corruption has its chokehold on all aspects of the country, and the entertainment industry has always been filthy. His best friend was assaulted by company executives and left for dead. Jaemin might be Korea’s beloved, but the feeling isn’t mutual. Mark won’t question where he learned those infiltration skills. The boy is good, and really, that’s all that matters right now. He’ll take all the help he can get.

Featuring: Lee Donghyuck.

Mark’s keeping something from him, something big. He doesn’t understand. They’re supposed to go through everything _together_ , the way they promised. Donghyuck loves his boyfriend, and that’s why he’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe.

[REDACTED]

He calls himself Haechan. Mark has no use for someone who can’t take orders and insists on guerrilla warfare.

* * *

In 2013, Chicago realized the promise of smart cities with ctOS, a citywide operating system merging big data with surveillance, security, and transit programs. Twenty years later, ctOS was adopted in cities across the world, from London to our home, Seoul. Coordinated from the heart of Geumcheon-gu, 6.4 billion connected devices now serve as collection points, mapping and recording our daily routines, making a more secure… and more invasive system.

But who else is listening? Big Brother no longer works alone. Thousands of little brothers monitor and aggregate your every move, building a complete digital profile of YOU, to be bought, sold, or stolen in an instant. Toys study your children, reporting their play habits back to marketers. Appliances, consoles, and home security systems give corporations a window into your private life. Control of your vehicle and mobile device can now be breached remotely by anyone, at any time.

You may think that you are immune or underestimate the risks, but your digital shadow is already compromised. Insurance companies use algorithms to monitor your life habits and limit or deny coverage. Health providers determine if your cancer is worth treating. Search results and news feeds are skewed to bias mood and influence your vote, engineering social uprisings on a massive scale. You are now less valuable than the data you produce. This is the new reality. Going dark is no longer an option. With threats to personal freedom rising, many are stepping forward. Whistleblowers, activists, and hackers have drawn their battle lines, putting the establishment on watch.

The new system had its weaknesses: known by few, found by many. With a few hundred lines of code, hackers were able to hijack its central servers and cripple the entire grid. The authorities fought back, eager to defend their precious data, unwilling to acknowledge their own corruption. They hid a mole in the Seoul branch of DedSec, massacred an entire generation of hacktivists, proclaimed the attack a successful move against terrorism in the fight for civilian rights. DedSec gave the city up as a lost cause, retreating completely, and now every day, the noose of a surveillance state tightens around the population’s necks.

So? What will YOU do in the face of such terrible odds?

**[fight for my privacy.]**

[wait out the storm.]


	2. Introduction, Part II

Congratulations, initiate, on choosing to take a stand. Welcome to DedSec. What, you actually thought we gave Seoul up to the establishment? As a new recruit, your job will be to keep an eye on the situation. If you have the skills, you might even be able to have some… influence.

Tread carefully: your decisions will have very real consequences. This is NOT a game.

There are lives at stake, danger and mature content at every turn. We’ll try to label anything we come across. But really, there’s no harm in having fun. You trust me, right?

Good luck, hackers. Our future rests on your shoulders.

* * *

[The screen glitches. Scratchy camera footage of someone’s dinner table fizzes into view.]

“...And we give thanks for the many blessings at our table tonight. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.” Mark zones back in when Donghyuck elbows him in the ribs, muttering a quiet prayer a touch behind the rest of the table. This dinner is going to drag on, he can already tell.

“So tell me again, Mark, you work in… sales?” Hyuck’s aunt, who is wearing as much wine on her lips as her wineglass is wearing lipstick, smiles politely, thin lips pressed together so tightly her face seems to be one seamless moon of white powder. Yeah, he _wishes_ her mouth would disappear entirely.

“I’m with IT, actually,” he replies as blandly as the question demanded. No one notices when his fork starts trembling in his hand.

“Yeah, he always jokes about how he’s barely making enough to support us and then turns right around and buys me the latest lines right from Fashion Week,” Donghyuck interjects brightly, rubbing one thumb soothingly over Mark’s fingers under the dinner table.

From the other end of the table, the Lee patriarch snorts. “At least it’s a proper company, not one of those dinky little startups by those so-called entrepreneurs.”

Mark’s smile tightens more than the dress around Hyuck’s cousin’s waist. “Yes, ERGO has been an…” He grits his teeth. “Absolute _pleasure_ to work for.”

* * *

Mark exhales heavily against the foggy bathroom mirror later that night. He hates them, hates the passive aggressiveness, hates playing the social game. 

But it’s worth it. It’s going to be. It has to be.

He peeps into the bedroom, smiles softly at the other man sprawled out on their bed, the only good thing in his life. There’s a half-open bag of makeup wipes clutched in one freckled hand, but its owner had fallen asleep before they could be of use.

Mark carefully rolls his boyfriend over and gently wipes all of his makeup off, taking care not to wake him. He spends a little longer than he should, stroking the pad of a thumb across Donghyuck’s cheek.

His lover deserved better, really, no matter what his current salary said.

But Mark won’t be able to sleep much tonight. There are some things that need to be taken care of.

It begins here.

[The young man in the suit exits the apartment. He doesn’t see the other man he left at home sitting up, done faking sleep.]

* * *

He’s been waiting for this moment for _years_ . The sniveling fool is right in front of him, pupils shaking in their sockets as he crosses his eyes to focus on the pistol trained between them. The crook of one finger, and he’ll finally have avenged his parents, his siblings, _himself_ ―

“Don’t do it,” a voice behind him orders, and it takes all his strength to not let a snarl tear its way out from between clenched teeth. There’s enough bullets here for two, but the one on his knees in front of him is still the greater flight risk, so he keeps his gun where it’s aimed. He’s spent months planning this out and he’ll be damned if _anyone_ gets in his way at this point.

“Don’t do it,” the voice repeats, and he _hates_ how the softness creeping into the other person’s tone is having an effect on his trigger finger. The speaker shuffles slowly behind the coward on the ground, hands raised and palms open. “You’ll regret it as soon as you pull the trigger.”

He could laugh, and however his expression twists must terrify his victim even more, judging by the fetid puddle pooling under his knees. “How would you know? I haven’t been looking forward to anything beyond revenge in _months._ ”

The stranger hesitates before answering. “My brother died in the DedSec raid.” And shit, _there’s_ a name he wasn’t expecting to hear. “So yes, I _do_ know what it’s like. But we both know he’s not to blame. We both know there’s a greater culprit in the game, don’t we, Huang Renjun?”

And finally, Renjun switches the bulk of his focus. No one should have known what he was up to, let alone any kind of connection between him and the bastard pissing his pants in front of him. “Who _are_ you?”

The man in the mask tosses something small to him and Renjun instinctively catches it, gun unwavering in his other hand. It’s a small white earpiece, but there’s no ERGO logo… _oh_. “You?” He asks incredulously.

“Me,” ML_0802, the _incredibly_ skilled champion of Seoul’s hackathon championships last year, affirms. And it has to be him, because there is no one else in the country who would still be trying to revive a branch international had washed their hands of, no one who could have braved that crowd of jeering to make such an impassioned speech for a cause no one believed in anymore. “You know what to do. Find me.” Having said his piece, the notorious stranger melts back into the shadows like he was never there to upturn Renjun’s entire world.

The earpiece is well-made, completely seamless like any other ERGO product. It’s blank, no logo blinking on in his vision when he rolls it in his palm. The rules haven’t changed in years, and Renjun knows them well. Blank pods are open invitations to join DedSec, but there’s a catch: you have to find HQ on your own. The pod will take a while to jailbreak entirely, especially one from the hands of Korea’s top hacker. If he chases this acid trip, his prey will get away.

As he looks up, he finds that the other man had long since run away, wet drops of urine the only trail left behind. Renjun sighs. There goes his chance. 

So what to do now?

**[inspect the earpiece closer.]**

[toss it away. hunt.]

* * *

Renjun stares down at the small earpiece in his hand. It’s unassuming enough, seamless with no visible ports. He rummages through a pocket, eventually unearthing a small magnet that he hovers over the outside of the earpiece, running it carefully along the length of it until there’s a barely-audible _click_. On the outside, the tech is unassuming as ever. Renjun sighs, popping it into his ear and jerking his head abruptly to start it up. Immediately, he winces as a blue screen overlay blinks into existence in front of his face, the earpiece linking to the simulator he wears over his retina.

New updates in technology occurred quickly in these modern times, and it wasn’t long before the personal computer was compacted smaller than ever before. 

Profit was one hell of a motivator, after all.

These days, an earpiece from ERGO could more than outpace a PC, the interface faster to use with retinal movement and the proper accessories. Renjun lets his fingers twitch inside his hoodie pockets as he scrolls through the mess of code, the modded FlexRings he wears on each hand logging every minute movement as a keystroke action. 

He keeps a brisk pace until he’s back on the main streets, dodging streetlights and the occasional security camera before pausing outside an abandoned property to look through everything more closely.

_Please. As if that could ever stop us from tracking him. Don’t look so impressed, rookie._

He’s in a relatively worn-down part of town and should really be keeping a better eye on his surroundings, but the digital files that only he can see have caught his attention. ML_0802 had left him some interesting information, beyond the standard encrypted folders he knows contain the riddle he’ll have to unravel. There’s trails of data hinting at corruption within his university, even more than what he had uncovered on his own. Even now, the other man is offering him a gift and a choice. He could use this to further his own schemes, walk away from the enigma of joining an elusive resistance. But Renjun has to admit, the intrigue...

He leans back against the chain link fence, mind whirling through a thousand different paths to take, even though he knows what he had decided the moment the offer was on the table.

What will Renjun do?

[walk away.]

**[find HQ.]**

[Renjun walks out of the camera’s view, mind made up. He’s still got places to go, things to do.]

Despite the late hour, the city never seems to sleep. Across the street, a diner’s neon sign continues to flicker feebly. Seems like there are a few people still inside. 

Next door is a construction site, its lights pooling dim gold on the ground. A muffled boom can be heard in the distance, presumably from further back in the site.

Now which direction will you look in?

[peer into the diner.]

**[enter the work site.]**

[follow Renjun.]

[catch up to Mark.]

* * *

[The screen fizzles once again, settling in on an aerial view of the construction site.]

Bright floodlights illuminate a row of workers standing in front of a woman with a buzz cut and heavyset eyes, presumably their supervisor. Most of the workers are gruff-looking older men, although one figure appears to be a teenage boy, blond hair noticeable in the lineup.

[She’s barking orders at them, although the audio is taking a while to cut in.]

“―and it shouldn’t have taken this long to demolish a single building! We had a new shipment in just last week, and there’s no way in hell it should’ve been used up this quickly,” she snaps, jabbing a finger in the direction of the building that had just been blown apart, currently nothing more than a pile of rubble.

Jeno hides a small smirk as he stares down submissively at the ground, thinking about the stack of C4 blocks sitting in his car trunk. He’ll find a better use for them, anyway. Unfortunately, his supervisor had noticed his expression and strides over to stand right in front of him.

“Is something funny, _mister_?” She demands, stepping right into his face. This close, he can smell the terradix on her breath, and he struggles to keep the sneer from his face. She had always been one of those people who fancied themselves more important than she actually was, and the use of designer drugs just cemented his perception of her.

Doesn’t mean he’s going to pass up on a little fun, though.

“Sir no sir,” he mutters as she begins to turn away, but she overhears him, judging by the way her back stiffens.

“ _What_ did you say?” She faces him menacingly, but Jeno keeps his posture mockingly straight, hands clasped behind his back and eyes focused on a point in the distance.

“Sir no sir!” He barks out, and her flinch at his sudden yell is satisfying enough to make the consequent blow to the side of his head worth it. He can’t help stumbling, one hand coming up to press lightly against his cheek as the taste of blood makes itself known.

“Trash,” she spits at his feet, eyes wild with hate. She turns towards the rest of the workers, who have stayed silent, unwilling to be the next to face her wrath, even if they sympathized with the mouthy brat. “All of you better be _grateful_ HSBC was willing to take a chance and hire Zeros like you, or you’d be out on the streets with the rest of the human filth.”

Jeno doesn’t reply, still rubbing at his face. He needs to ice it before it bruises too badly; Jeremy will be unhappy if he comes in for his next match looking like he already went through a fight.

No one likes betting on damaged goods, after all.

Jeno gets off the site relatively quietly after that, minding his tongue, although he knows he's in for it next week. It's not like they can cut his paycheck any lower anyways though. If he wasn't skimming from the hag's money, he'd be back on the streets again in a heartbeat.

He remembers to send her a little fuck you in the form of a detonator under the hood of her Porsche, though. Just a little love tap, really.

The ring he fights at is in the basement of some seedy club, one reputable enough not to get raided by the cops, but still low-tier enough that the only people going there are the ones who _know_. 

The bouncer gives him a nod as he cuts in through the back door, and a harried man with hair six years younger than the rest of him immediately clasps him by the shoulder. “Where have you been?” Jeremy, his self-arranged ‘manager’ demands, before cutting himself off. “Never mind that, I almost had to call the match off,” he grumbles, but it’s a well-worn excuse, and Jeno knows exactly what he wants.

“Just take half my cut tonight,” the blond replies easily. It’s smoother than the shifty rambling he’d have to face after the match, when half his face has gotten bashed in and all he wants is to sleep. 

The greasy man lights up. “Hey, thanks dude!” He claps him on the shoulder again, and it’s all Jeno can do not to shrug him off. This is one place he can’t afford to lose his temper in, and one glance at the beefy thugs stationed around the room is enough to serve as a reminder.

He makes his rounds like normal, shaking hands and greeting the men with the deepest pockets, the ones who’ll be sponsoring his medical attention tonight, winks at a few of the girls unfortunate enough to get dragged to this place tonight, before stepping into the massive wire cage. They used to have dogfights here, he’s been told. Massive rabid pitbulls bred just to kill each other for sport. 

Not much different from his current position, Jeno muses. Just another breed of bitch.

His fight tonight shouldn’t be difficult, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be any less of a bruiser. The hired grunt he’ll be facing has at least a foot and fifty pounds on him, and they both circle warily, unwilling to make the first move against an unknown.

Jeno decides to…

**[aim for his head.]**

**[sweep his feet out.]**

* * *

Jeno can’t decide whether to aim for the brute’s face or try to trip him first (the guy’s huge, he’s got to be slower, right?), but he glances upwards and an idea pops into his head. He smirks.

They want a show? He’ll give them a show.

The chain link wire surrounding the two fighters extends all the way overhead to form the roof of the cage, and Jeno slowly looks upwards, drawing his opponent into thinking there’s an opening for a second. The blond dodges the oncoming punch quickly, satisfied to have his prediction of the man’s slow speed confirmed, before quickly jabbing a toe through the wires and scaling up the wall as high as he can go before the thug figures out what he’s done. He’s not afraid to trod on a few fingers of the overenthusiastic crowd. 

Serves them right.

The roof of the cage extends about a foot above the taller man’s head, so there’s still not enough space to completely avoid a fight, but at least any blows coming his way will have to fight against gravity to reach him.

Jeno quickly finds out being up here is not the total advantage he had presumed it would be, sweat trickling into his eyes as he carefully keeps track of where his foe aims next while also rapidly trying to think of a counterattack. It’s hard to keep his feet up here when he’s suspended, and he soon gives up trying to keep his entire body out of reach in favor of swinging from corner to corner like the dancing monkey everyone’s always seen him as. He should be more than agile enough to not get completely beaten up.

One thing’s for sure, at least his adversary is getting enraged, giving up on taunting him and resorting to just wildly swinging punches. Jeno matches a few blows with kicks of his own, gritting his teeth as he feels his arms strain to their limits. 

Both men are panting hard, neither completely uninjured from the flurry of hits. Jeno now has a matching bruise on his other cheek, and at least one rib is going to have to be taped soon. The hired thug’s even worse off: Jeno had heard a crunch when his boot had connected solidly with the man’s wrist. He drops back into a low crouch on the ground, unwilling to take any more hits and just wanting to end it quickly.

Jeremy gives him a subtle nod from outside the cage, signalling permission given to wrap it up, but a sudden gleam from his opponent’s side causes Jeno’s eyes to widen in surprise and fear. 

Oh hell no, he snuck a knife in.

The tables have turned, and both fighters trade hits more slowly, but it’s no less heartracing. Jeno can’t completely avoid the blade at his collarbone, and it slices through his shirt, searing agony bleeding red across the top of his pectoral. It’s not deep, thankfully, but he bends over hissing in pain, luckily missing a second swipe from his opponent.

Jeno slides between the man’s legs and jumps up behind him, resisting the urge to lift one hand to his chest, kicking the grunt behind both knees to topple the taller man before tackling him down further for a final knockout, but the other man turns back over and Jeno has to snap his other wrist before he finally stops trying to stab him.

The victorious roar of the crowd as Jeno clambers off his opponent, pumping one fist wearily in the air, matches the ringing in his ears, and he thinks maybe it’s the sudden adrenaline crash to blame for him locking eyes with a _lion_ in the crowd. He blinks through sweat-dripping bangs as his vision refocuses, but no, it’s just a man in a remarkably realistic lion mask.

Now why would someone be wearing something like that?

[The view of the cage fizzles out as a raucous crowd converges on the solitary blond. He’s upheld his winning streak well enough.]

_Well, well, looks like our favorite little corporate worker is being rather ambitious in his recruiting, hm? Now don’t look so worried, rookie, we’ll be offering our help, too._

Who should we keep an eye on next?

[Huang Renjun.]

**[Mark Lee.]**

[Lee Jeno.]

[Zhong Chenle.]


	3. Introduction, Part III

[It’s the middle of the day, and the camera view zooms in on a young man in a dark suit hurrying down the busy street.]

Mark Lee is impatient. It’s been a few days since that fateful encounter in the alleyway, and he still hadn’t gotten a call from Kun about anyone trying to get into the hackerspace. It shouldn’t have taken Renjun this long to untangle the code, which only meant that the other man was conflicted about joining forces. Mark was just about to start looking into his next candidate when the text he’d been waiting for came in.

Two simple words: he’s here.

And now Mark is on his way to his favorite coffee shop, keeping a brisk walk despite the rising tension running through his body. He doesn’t have enough time to gather the rest of his team if he plans on making their strike count.

The cafe isn’t an unfamiliar place. Mark used to take Donghyuck here for simple dates before he had finally worked up the courage to ask him to be his boyfriend, and the memory brings the slightest smile to his face as he settles down in a window seat.

“Something nice happen today?” Kun asks as a waiter sets a takeaway coffee cup on the table. The older man cocks an eyebrow over the top of his newspaper as Mark takes a slow sip, eyes darting around the shop. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Mark murmurs back distractedly. “He’s here?” Kun might own the place, but that didn’t mean they could stay hidden forever.

Kun snorts. “He went up already. Never expected _him_ to be behind the Gangnam job, though.” 

Mark shrugs. Renjun did look pretty unassuming, if that’s what Kun meant.

It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch out for, huh?

“I’ll see you later.” Mark nods to the former DedSec fence before climbing the stairs, ignoring the “Employees Only” sign on the door at the end of the hallway. There’s a small keycode panel at the side, but Mark ignores the number pad to run his fingers along the grooved side. A quiet beep sounds as his fingerprints are successfully recognized, and he slips into the elevator easily, tapping the railing impatiently as it descends 60 feet beneath the coffee shop.

Kun had bought the place right before the DedSec raid had occurred. While he didn’t have the tech skills to work directly with the branch, he had smuggled in most of their supplies when the government had first tried to siege them, and it had only been chance that he had survived the massacre, as he had been outside the country checking on a weapons shipment that ended up being a futile effort. Mark’s lucky he still has this tie to the only family he had ever known, even if he and Kun hadn’t been all that close before DedSec was destroyed.

Johnny had always insisted on keeping Mark away from the dirtier side of their activities, but he wasn’t here anymore to tell Mark what he could and couldn’t do.

The painful memories only strengthen Mark’s need to set things right, and he strides purposefully into the hackerspace. “You took your time getting here, Renjun,” he tells the figure facing away from him on the couch as he drops his briefcase onto the nearest counter.

Had Renjun always had pink hair?

“Sorry,” comes the husky reply as the stranger turns lazily in his seat, slinging an arm over the back of the couch to face Mark. Korea’s #1 eligible bachelor flashes his infamous smirk, seen on advertisements and posters all over the nation. “But who’s Renjun?”

Mark has to say something.

[How’d you get in?]

**[Why are you here?]**


	4. Introduction, Part IV

The pout he gets in return seems to mock Mark’s tension. “You’re not even going to ask how I got into your hideout? About all the trouble I went to, writing that decryption software that would still let _you_ in after I hacked it? Oh, yeah, you’re going to want a new keypad soon.” His laugh is so relaxed, in direct contrast to the way Mark sits down heavily across him in one of the armchairs, mind reeling.

" _You_ of all people? How did you know…?”

Na Jaemin exhales, cheerful expression sliding off his face like water from glass. “Mark Lee. ML_0802. Youngest champion at the Neo Hackathon, although no one was certain of your age, they all just suspected because there was no trace of your signature in online attacks before 2022. Responsible for reverse engineering a network analyzer to hack undetected into the national bank. The Coin Attacks. Project Buccaneer,” the pop idol recites. He quirks an eyebrow. “And that’s just the information I could _buy_.”

Mark takes a deep breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jaemin somehow manages to snort elegantly. “Please. I might not have your magic touch, but what _I_ know is people. I read the pattern. A new hire working his way up the company line, somehow miraculously managing to salvage a data system that had oh-so-mysteriously fried a few months after your arrival? Lord knows how you’ve managed to remain uncaught thus far.”

Mark’s blood runs cold. Someone had found out. Jaemin’s next words also failed to put him at ease.

The celebrity smiles, and it isn’t reassuring at all. “But don’t worry, I took care of it.”

There are thousands of questions racing through Mark’s mind, calculations writing and rewriting themselves, but he never could toy with people the same way he could trifle with computers. “How did you find out in the first place?” Mark demands. “ERGO is an _e-commerce_ company, its entertainment subsidiary is―”

“Why, they’ve asked me to be the face of their next marketing series,” Jaemin interrupts, beaming sunnily. The sudden change in temperament catches Mark off-guard, but before he can start spluttering, Jaemin continues. “All it took was a bit of flattery, because I had _never_ been in such a large company, you see, and wouldn’t it be interesting if I could just have a little peek behind the scenes, you know, to get a more genuine feel for the revolutionary corporation I was absolutely _tickled_ to represent?” Vicious condescension drips from every word, and his eyes glitter so furiously Mark leans back a bit in his seat.

“Because no one would ever suspect a ditzy cash cow to be capable of any _espionage_ , would they?” Jaemin sneers. “They hired him for his looks, after all, and _that will be all they see._

“So when their monthly safety checks fail to ping the virus I’ve hidden under their firewalls, why, no one would even _begin_ to think that maybe the airheaded rookie they gave a tour to could’ve done _anything_ in the few minutes he was left to his own devices.” Mark knows his jaw is all but touching the floor, and yet he would rather not pick it back up.

“But how did you connect my work position to my identity as ML_0802?”

Jaemin’s eyes refocus back on the present, and his expression closes off, twists into something unreadable for the barest of seconds before the charming grin is back. “Why, I asked around, of course. Office gossip is as useful as ever, it seems.”

_Now, I’m no psychoanalysis expert, but that seems like a lie if I’ve ever heard one._

“But more importantly,” Jaemin begins again, and his temperament turns serious once more. “I found out about your brother.”

Mark stares at him. There were only two people left who knew about his connection to Johnny, one incapable of ever betraying him, and the other sitting in this room. “Who. Told. You.” He grits out through clenched teeth. There was only one possible way someone could’ve found out.

Someone else had survived the DedSec raid.

Jaemin hesitates. “I couldn’t say.” At the sudden cock of a gun, his eyes widen and he raises both hands in surrender, losing control for the first time since Mark had walked in. “Whoa!”

The barrel trembles in Mark’s hand as he stands up, but at this close of a distance, there was no way he would miss. “I’ll ask one more time. Who. Told. You.”

Jaemin still looks shocked, but there’s no fear to be found. “I really couldn’t tell you!” He yelps. “It was with the information I bought on you, and neither the broker nor the seller mentioned it as different from the other data.” 

Mark swallows. “Then if you know about Johnny, and you know what I plan to do, _why are you here_?” 

Jaemin lowers his hands slowly. “Because I have a proposition.”

What will Mark do?

**[hear Jaemin out.]**

[send him on his way.]


	5. Introduction, Part V

Mark lowers the gun. “You have 5 minutes.”

Jaemin swallows audibly, drawing the embers of his composure around his shoulders as he straightens in his seat. “I had a friend. A fellow trainee. She was supposed to debut in a girl group, but one of the company execs took a… _liking_ to her. What they were doing in secret to her… She never told me.” His mouth twists bitterly. “I just watched her become more jumpy, more unhinged, paler by the day. There was nothing I could do, and the rumors were all just talking about how she had a drug problem, so they pulled her out of the lineup. I found out later that they were threatening her with my career. Either she shut up and took it, or they would make sure I never debuted.”

The idol smiles bleakly, unfocused stare looking into the past. “She was a good friend. More than I deserved.” He takes a deep breath. “And that’s why I’m going to avenge her.”

Mark doesn’t waver, but sympathy creeps its way into his voice regardless. “But how does this involve me?”

Jaemin turns to look him in the eye. “Haum Electronics. The household surveillance system. I couldn’t find any traces myself, but I _know_ they broke into her house. They left her—” He chokes on the words, fist clenching in his slacks. “The system should have been secure, but there have been rumors that if you know the right person, if you have the right reason…” 

Mark nods sharply. “You can bribe them,” he finishes for the other man. “They’ll cause a system failure, and in the end, at most they cite the warranty, compensation is paid, and it’s all swept under the rug. I’ve heard the rumors myself.” It’s why this hideout was secured by a software homebrew, making it all the more impressive that Jaemin had somehow managed to circumvent it. Technology made by other hands couldn’t be trusted with secrets this important.

“So you want me to help you expose your higher-ups,” Mark concludes, but Jaemin shakes his head. 

“That won’t work.” 

Mark raises an eyebrow. “Are you doubting my skills?”

“I want _Haum_ destroyed,” Jaemin clarifies. “The men in question have enough money to walk away from this free as a bird, and I have plans of my own for them. I could hire any two-bit hacker to ruin their lives or, hell, do it myself if I have to. But home surveillance shouldn’t be so corrupt that anyone could waltz in for the right price, and I can’t destroy a system on my own. Remember, I know you’re DedSec. Despite the raid, people are still out there who believe that someone will rise up to be a voice against injustice again. I wouldn’t have tried to find you otherwise,” Jaemin pleads, leaning forward towards Mark.

Jaemin was clever with his words, dangling precisely the kind of bait Mark should be nibbling at. A chance to fight the good fight, rebel against big corp, the promise of heroism tantalizing in every word.

But Jaemin had gotten one thing wrong: this wasn’t DedSec, and Mark was no hero.

“I think it’s time for you to leave.” Mark gestures towards the door, getting up out of his seat, but Jaemin shoots up faster.

“What? But—”

Mark stares back, expressionless. “I can’t help you. Not when I barely have the manpower to begin my own investigations, and especially not such a low-hanging fruit. Yeah, you’re right, if this was DedSec, maybe they’d take this on. But DedSec died when the KNP chose to protect the wealthy few at the expense of everyone else’s lives. If you found out who my brother was, then you should’ve known _DedSec died when he was shot seven times in the chest_ ,” he hisses furiously into Jaemin’s face, chest heaving. “So no, if it isn’t related to taking down ctOS, I’m not interested.” Mark couldn’t afford to veer away from his goals, and he especially had no use for anyone chasing DedSec’s coattails. He wasn’t going to get killed for what he believed in, not the way Johnny had.

Jaemin’s eyes glittered at the flat-out rejection, but he didn’t react otherwise. “Then that leaves me no choice.”

Mark stills. “What?”

Jaemin shoves both hands in his pockets and nods at the security camera mounted in the corner. “I hacked into your surveillance feeds before you arrived. I hadn’t turned them off because I was going to offer the evidence of me being here to you as a sign of trust, but they’ve been looping live footage to my own server this entire time. I’m sure the authorities would be interested in you all but confessing that you had prior ties to a known cyberterrorist group.”

“Are you _threatening_ me?”

Jaemin smiles insincerely. “Shoot me if you want. The records will email themselves automatically to the police in 12 hours unless I manually turn them off. And you might be more skilled than I am, but I’ve had months to plan everything out. You won’t override the feeds in time. So go ahead, if you want to be arrested for murder on top of the treason charges.”

Mark _hates_ being backed into a corner like this.“I _can’t_ help you even if I wanted to. We need at _least_ two more people to do something like this, and at least another person to—”

“The broker I got your information from,” Jaemin interrupts. “I did a little digging, and I think I know where to find him. I’m slow, so his firewall blocked me in the end, but I can tell you what I know of him. I’m not here to be the bad guy, Mark, and if you help me with this, I’ll work with you as long as you need. You know what I’m capable of now, and I didn’t want to have to do this to you,” he finishes, and the thing is, as mad as Mark is right now, he can’t help how _impressed_ he is, too. 

The other man’s been in control of the situation this entire time and _still_ chose to give him a choice, however skewed his options may be.

But there’s no time. He can’t afford to lose sight of his own goals. 

If he chooses to go after Haum, the past 3 years of preparation will all go down the drain. 

If he chooses to ignore Jaemin’s threats, especially when he doesn’t know what the idol’s capable of, the footage will ruin him.

So what DOES Mark choose?

**[agree to go after Haum.]**

[keep planning for ERGO.]


	6. Introduction, Part VI

Mark wants to deliberate, but there’s only one real choice. He’ll risk it all for revenge, but the one thing he won’t risk is Donghyuck, who would get hit by the fallout if Mark was incapacitated. And for that reason, he’ll have to acquiesce to Jaemin’s threats. But it’s not a loss he’s happy with.

Mark lowers his gun again. “Fine. You win,” he surrenders, collapsing back into the armchair. “Tell me about Haum.” 

Jaemin takes his seat and his victory with grace. “Thank you,” he replies earnestly. “I know I left you basically no choice, but I really do need the help.”

And who is Mark Lee to refuse to acknowledge vengeance?

Jaemin turns the TV on, flipping through channels until he finds the local news station, which is broadcasting an interview with a sprightly middle-aged man. 

“—and could you tell us a little bit more about what consumers can expect from the new update?” The anchorwoman asks.

“Yes, we’ve upgraded all of our software, and we are now also offering a range of home appliances that are also part of the revolutionary Haum Surveillance system, including toasters, mirrors, refrigerators, washing machines, and the like!” Park Donghyun, CEO of Haum Enterprises, explains pleasantly. “It will become easier than ever to monitor your own living habits, and the smart algorithms can assist families in adjusting their lifestyles to live healthier than before! Of course, security features have also been upgraded, with new climate control systems and door locks. It’s safer than having a live-in bodyguard, and not even half the price!”

The two on-screen share a chuckle before the lady moves on with her next question. “Wow, that sounds amazing, Mr. Park, but how can you ensure that such an all-encompassing system won’t be invaded by any, well, _unsavory_ parties?”

Donghyun laughs fakely. “Believe me, we’ve run every security test we could throw at the system, and its firewall is _completely_ impenetrable. I bet even that terrorist hacker group couldn’t get past it, if they were still around today.”

The anchorwoman turns directly to the camera, and Jaemin chances a brief look at Mark, who is staring stonily back at the TV screen. “For those of you at home who might not know, DedSec was the notorious ‘hacktivism’ group that illegally breached many corporate systems over the span of a decade in an attempt to, in their words, bring justice to the people against the self-styled big corporate enemy. They were identified in a police raid, and the perpetrators instigated a shootout with the national police that left no survivors.” She narrates the events neutrally enough, but Jaemin winces at Mark’s cold expression.

“Yes, well, they’re long since gone, aren’t they?” The CEO interjects rudely. “If they were really as skilled as they claimed to be, they wouldn’t have been caught. Regardless, Haum 2.0 is impervious to all cyber attacks, and consumers will have guaranteed safety in the privacy of their own homes.”

The anchorwoman smiles back uncomfortably, veering topics. “That does sound like it requires advanced systems, Mr. Park, what could you tell us about the technological innovations in this….” 

Jaemin lowers the volume as he strains his ears to catch Mark’s mutters. “What?”

The older man doesn’t look too upset, but there’s a particular gleam in his eye that Jaemin is wary of. “They think they’re unhackable, do they? Think they coded a system that can’t be breached? They can think again.” Mark gets up immediately to rummage through a cabinet in the back of the living room.

“What?” Jaemin repeats confusedly, taken aback by Mark’s sudden fervor. 

Mark peeks out and jerks his head towards the door. “You can leave now. We’ll be taking the job. Just send me the data you already compiled, and come back in a few days so we can go talk to the information broker.”

Jaemin raises an eyebrow, but he gets up as asked. “I take it you’re interested in taking Haum down, then?”

Mark blinks absently, kicking shut the door behind him, both hands full of various wires and cords. His stare settles into something cold again as he gives the idol his full attention. “I hate DedSec,” he states flatly. “The police might have shot him, but for all intents and purposes, DedSec was just as responsible for killing my brother.”

Jaemin begins to understand just how much about Mark he had miscalculated.

“I hate DedSec,” Mark repeats. “But I’ll be damned if I let the world forget the justice my brother was trying to spread.” And, well, that’s a sentiment Jaemin can get behind. The celebrity hums in understanding, but before he leaves, he turns back to smirk at Mark.

“So you’re completely on board then?” Jaemin clarifies. “Beyond me threatening you?”

Mark nods sharply. “They made it personal for me, too.”

Jaemin looks smugger than ever, grin widening toothily. “Then I thought I might let you know: I never hacked your feeds.”

Mark freezes. “What?”

It had all been a bluff. Jaemin winks jauntily. “See you in a few days, Mark Lee.”

[The camera feeds cut off on the image of the boyish young man, frozen in his place for many hours after his infamous intruder had left.]

_What a fascinating turn of events. But there’s someone we’re forgetting, isn’t there?_

* * *

“Finally!” Renjun crows at his screen, bleary-eyed in the dim morning light peeking through his blinds. He honestly hadn’t expected it to take him 24 hours _straight_ to decrypt the layers upon layers of code he had been gifted. His fellow hacker was a fucking _genius_ for putting it together, and Renjun feels smugger than ever for breaking through it all.

The golden nugget he spent so much effort unearthing has proven to be a simple string of numbers, one that could mean any number of things, but Renjun’s best guess is that it’s a series of coordinates. He spins triumphantly in his chair, high on success, before he notices the state of his room post-hack. “Shit.” Guess he'll have to check the location out in person tomorrow.

* * *

[The display fizzles once again, refocusing on an upscale coffee shop, all exposed brick and iron accents. It’s a busy place at midday, people at every table typing on laptops or chatting on their cells. One young man stands near the register, staring confusedly down at his phone.]

This can’t be the right place, Renjun thinks, staring down once again at his phone, but no, he’s double and triple checked those digits, and this is still the location he’s been brought to, The Allis. He begins second guessing again whether those were actually GPS coordinates and not a, a, _phone number_ or something? Or maybe he decrypted everything wrong entirely and—

“You ready to order?” The well-dressed man behind him in line taps him on the shoulder, not unkindly.

Renjun blinks at him absently before moving out of the line. “Ah, sorry about that,” he replies curtly, but the blond just flashes him an understanding smile before rattling off some complex drink to the suddenly flustered barista.

“Don’t worry, Mondays tend to be like that.” He reaches out a hand for Renjun to shake. “The name’s Qian Kun.”

Renjun stares back warily but reaches forward. “Huang Renjun.” He doesn’t miss how the other man’s eyes gleam in recognition, grip tightening briefly, and something settles in his stomach. Did he actually come to the right place?

But the other man doesn’t say anything Renjun would’ve expected to hear, like “Oh DedSec’s on their way” or “congratulations, initiate” or even “you’re arrested”, since the younger man’s still not sure he hasn’t been scammed. 

Instead, Kun continues to stand there looking him over, a small smile flickering mysteriously at the corners of his lips. Renjun knows he looks out of place in such a posh place, surrounded by office workers when all he’s wearing is a hoodie and equally tattered skinny jeans, but Kun doesn’t comment on his appearance at all. “Let’s grab a table, shall we?”

Renjun sits down in a booth with him warily, subtly reaching into a jacket pocket for his taser in case the other man tries something. Kun sips slowly at his takeaway cup, savoring the steam with closed eyes, his entire presence exuding an unmatched elegance. After a few minutes of Renjun’s tense fidgeting, he finally speaks.

“Why are you here, Huang Renjun?”

Renjun leans forward eagerly. Here’s the opening he’s been looking for. “I cracked the code with an algorithm from—”

“Not _how_ you got here,” Kun interrupts mildly. “Let me ask again. _Why_ are you here?”

Renjun leans back in his seat, dark eyes watching him steadily. Is this a test? They must be trying to figure out if he’s a spy or something. He’s obviously not, but he definitely isn’t joining a resurrected DedSec for completely noble reasons. ML_0802 might’ve thought he was swayed by the chance to rebel against the system, but for Renjun, it’s more than that. 

He grew up in Jilin with stories of DedSec’s exploits in nearby Harbin, but what always stuck with him were the massive waves of awe and admiration rumbling through his classmates at these faceless hackers and their life-changing accomplishments. He _craves_ that kind of success, and it had been the surge of motivation he’d needed to rise to the top of his school. But life wasn’t fair for an impoverished country boy, and he soon found out how easily people with _privilege_ could crush any way for him to fight. Connections did just as much for other people as studying did for him, and it was absolutely _infuriating_. But if others would be playing dirty, then Renjun would learn to cheat, too. 

DedSec may have gotten trampled in Seoul, but if a hacker as talented as ML_0802 was willing to put his reputation on the line to revive the organization, then Renjun could, too. Yes, it was that personal testimony that had finally convinced Renjun. And, of course, the chance for an even more satisfying revenge, one that would make his name _known_. 

A sudden wave of anxiety rushes through him. But what if he doesn’t answer to Kun’s satisfaction? Will they refuse his entry, no matter how high his skills were? He can’t afford to lose out on a backing of powerful like-minded hackers, and he definitely can’t afford a hit to his reputation. 

With that in mind, Renjun chooses to…

[lie.]

**[tell the truth.]**


	7. Introduction Part VII

Kun had recognized Renjun immediately when he had walked into The Allis, his belligerent demeanor so out of place that really, he hadn’t needed to hack into the younger man’s ctOS profile. Mark was still ticked off that he had let Na Jaemin in, but that one had seemed like he knew exactly what he was looking for, allowing Kun to mistake him as Mark’s first recruit.

Renjun was easier to read than he probably thought, or maybe Kun just had years of practice seeking out deceit in the lines of his face. While never much of a technological prodigy the way some of his deceased compatriots had been, Kun knew his way around enough to be trusted with administrative tasks, and he could see the same hunger in Renjun’s eyes that all _his_ recruits back in the day had. 

Unlike them, though, Renjun already displayed a streak of viciousness that didn’t bode well for plans that required a team of people working together in close quarters for weeks on end, one Kun hadn’t seen in a long, long time. Kun tamps down the thoughts of another cruel gaze, pretty cat eyes that chilled his blood even all these years later.

Kun could pinpoint the exact moment Renjun decided to blurt out everything truthfully, and he’s glad for it. DedSec had always attracted all kinds of people, but they did require people to share a single goal: to end ctOS and secure privacy rights once and for all. Beyond that, Kun didn’t particularly care what other motives Renjun had. It had all gotten cuttingly personal, after all, and this isn’t his show to run anymore.

“I don’t need your whole life story,” Kun interrupts the younger man’s rambling, not unkindly. Whatever thoughts he has of the past, he meets Renjun’s fiery scowl with a tempered gaze. 

“His name is Mark Lee. You’ll find him upstairs.”

* * *

Renjun manipulates the keypad upstairs easily enough, but he frowns because it feels like someone had already messed with it. What other reason would they have for keeping it on factory reset…?

The locked unit beyond the elevator appears to be a multi-story apartment unit, decorated similarly to the coffee shop downstairs, but Renjun’s attention is caught by the man taking a phone call by the oversize windows looking out over the city. Except they’re 60 feet underground, so those have to be an impressive set of projections. 

The set of his shoulders is familiar, still exuding the calm confidence that had pulled Renjun out of his unbridled fury long enough to consider his proposal. Renjun’s prey had escaped, but in the end, he supposed he doesn’t regret any of it, not when it’s led to such an intricate puzzle.

“-probably won’t be home ‘til late,” ML_0802, no, Mark Lee, is speaking softly into his cell. “My coworkers are going out for drinks after work. I won’t. Uh-huh. No, don’t wait up. I’ll be there when you wake up.”

Some deeply hidden part of Renjun twinges in half-forgotten pain hearing the gentle tone the other man takes. How long has it been since anyone has spoken like that to him? How long has it been since he’s had the time and energy for anything besides bitter vengeance? It’s sour, the jealousy he tastes on his tongue, but Renjun supposes this is the price he’s paying for victory.

Renjun fakes a cough to announce his presence, causing Mark to whirl around and quickly nod in acknowledgement. “I gotta go now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” As affectionate as his tone is, the gaze Mark turns towards Renjun shows none of his prior softness. 

Renjun deliberately slouches further against the couch, letting a lazy smirk turn up the corners of his lips. He jerks his chin towards the phone in Mark’s hand. “Girlfriend?”

Mark takes his subtle jab in stride. “Boyfriend, actually,” he replies easily, reaching out a hand for Renjun to shake. He doesn’t seem fazed when Renjun merely cocks an eyebrow at it and sits down like he owns the place, smoothly reaching out for the laptop on the coffee table instead.

“Well, I’m here,” the younger man drawls. “What now?”

Mark types something in quickly, and a projector screen fizzles to life on the far wall, immediately throwing up various diagrams and windows of data.

Renjun stops feigning interest and leans forward in genuine fascination. “Is that…?”

“Don’t touch it,” Mark tells him. “It’s still under development, so it’ll zap you.”

Renjun ignores him and reaches for the edge of a screen anyway, hissing in pain as it sparks angrily in return.

Mark snorts. “I warned you.”

Renjun sucks at the burn on his knuckle, curling back into the couch. “You have working holograms and you expected me _not_ to touch?”

Mark shrugs modestly. “I wouldn’t call them that, exactly. They’re about as useful as a powerpoint right now, anyway.”

Renjun’s gazing at the information projected above them, squinting at some of the blueprints laid out in glowing blue overlays. “These are… design plans?”

Mark nods, trying to gauge his reaction while his fingers continue to fly furiously over the keyboard. “Ever heard of Haum?”

[yes.]

**[no.]**

* * *

Renjun stares at him in utter disbelief. “You’re insane,” he replies flatly as soon as Mark has finished presenting his proposal. “Absolutely fucking batshit.”

Mark leans back in his seat, as calm as Renjun is agitated. “It’ll work.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? With that level of risk?”

“It’ll work out.”

“I’m not gonna risk my _life_ ―”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Tell me how this could possibly succeed,” Renjun demands, but despite his hostile skepticism, he has yet to look up from where he’s flicking through the data. “How the f―”

Mark raises his hands appeasingly. “I wasn’t done. We’ll have―”

“There’s no way in hell this will work with just the two of us―”

“We won’t be the only ones,” Mark interrupts forcefully, halting Renjun’s tirade. 

“What?”

Mark jerks his chin at one of the discarded papers on the floor, covered in hastily scribbled calculations. “We have a third already. And possibly a fourth, I just haven’t gotten around to asking him yet.”

Renjun scoffs. “And what makes you so sure he’ll be down to do something _this deranged_ ―”

Mark sighs irritably. “You’re going to go see him tonight.”

Renjun waves a gloved hand dismissively, swearing when it accidentally minimizes one of the screens before he realizes. “Didn’t you have like. A hangout with your coworkers or something?”

Mark rolls his eyes as he shrugs back into his jacket. “That was a lie, obviously.”

Renjun finally looks up. “Your boyfriend doesn’t know?” Mark shakes his head. “Like, about _any_ of this?” Mark shakes his head again as Renjun lets out a slow whistle. “S’that a good idea?”

Mark sighs wearily. “Who knows.”

Something clicks in Renjun’s brain. “Wait. You said _I’m_ going to go see him tonight. Not us. Me.”

Mark nods firmly. “I have business with our third tonight. You’re going to have to convince Lee Jeno yourself that all of this” ―he gestures at the holograms― “is worth his time.”

* * *

Which is how Renjun finds himself all dolled up and leaning up against the grimy exterior of some club two hours later, scrolling through the scant information Mark had sent him on his new target. Lee Jeno, dubbed The King, a boxer in the underground fight club so notorious that even Renjun had heard of their gambling rings, long ago. He wonders why Mark thinks this punk would even be interested in their cyber schemes, let alone have any worthwhile skills. It’s not like the brute could punch his way through a firewall. 

After Mark had dropped him off with a few distracted remarks, Renjun had gone snooping through Jeno’s ctOS file, but the minimal data there had only led to more questions than answers. 

What did Mark possibly see in a _Zero_? Of course those stats were often manipulated, but Jeno’s file had been authentic enough to justify the score: a history of poor scores, petty criminal activity, a terrible temper, and the like… Renjun really didn’t see any special reason to recruit this guy.

Renjun sighs, closing the windows with a flick of his wrist. Well, he’s about to find out for himself.

* * *

There are new faces in the crowd again tonight. The man in the lion mask had shown up enough times to pique Jeno’s curiosity, but ever since he had started accepting matches nightly, the other man hadn’t shown up again. Not that Jeno really had time to notice these things, with the way his winning streak was in more danger these past few weeks than ever before. 

His cheek was still swollen from yesterday’s bout, and his depth perception seems to be off, but that’s the price he’s had to pay ever since officially getting fired from the construction site. Good riddance. Although it was a shame he hadn’t had time to snag the last few bits of wiring he needed. The place could’ve gone up in flames… it would’ve been _beautiful_.

The newcomer in the crowd tonight seems out of place, catching Jeno’s remaining non-black eye after the match as he applauds mockingly from the other side of the room. The other man doesn’t try to break through the waves of gamblers surrounding Jeremy to collect their winnings, but his calculating eyes never leave Jeno’s face, and it raises his hackles the same way an opponent worth his time does. Not that the other man seems like he’d last two seconds in a fight, judging by how little space he takes up in the corner over there, but something is dangerous about him nonetheless.

Finally, when most of the horde’s headed back upstairs to dance and Jeno himself has been dismissed with an absentminded clap on the shoulder, the stranger saunters on over like he has all the time in the world, slowly clapping. 

“Well, aren’t you a looker,” he drawls, ordering a drink from the seat right next to him, and Jeno’s unclear if the smaller man is referring to his black eye or his appearance in general. He’s too tired to want to deal with whatever proposition this is going to be, but something keeps niggling at his hindbrain, and in the end, he chooses not to walk off.

“D’you like fighting?” floats into his ears, and Jeno tilts his head in surprise, but the slighter man gazes almost demurely down into his tumbler.

Jeno snorts, wincing at how the movement tugs at his bruises. “No.” That’s not what he had expected him to ask. 

“Thought so.” The stranger smirks smugly. “Then why do you do it?”

Jeno scowls. If he had any more lucrative options, he wouldn’t do this at all. “It pays, obviously.”

The other man finally turns that piercing gaze on him again, quirking an eyebrow up. “And if I could pay you more than what you currently earn?”

Jeno snorts, quickly losing interest. “As if.” But the other man discreetly pulls a black card out of his pocket, letting it flash between his fingers before disappearing again. _Now_ Jeno stares, taking a good look at him for the first time. The other man’s still as unassuming as ever, on the prettier side, but the jut of his chin seems like it’s got something to prove, and the crisp confidence he exudes sets him apart from the mundane crowd around them. Who _is_ he?

“Ever heard of Haum?” The other man, who he still hasn’t gotten a name from, asks abruptly.

Jeno stiffens. “Used to work for ‘em,” he answers cautiously. HSBC owns Haum, after all, even if the construction company had nothing to do with the tech installations that happened long after Jeno finished work on a site.

The other man appears deep in thought at his answer. “Huh. Maybe that’s why…” he mutters. “Anyway,” he interrupts himself. “We’re trying to hack them. You down?” It’s so… straightforward, the way his invitation is delivered, that it causes Jeno, who had steeled himself for a round of beating around the bush, to reel back.

Jeno stares incredulously. Sure, he knows a bit more than any regular chump on the street, enough to swipe his ex-boss’s password and snag a couple thou every now and then, but he’s _useless_ for any kind of… well, cyberterrorism campaign, especially from whoever the fuck this man thinks he is. He’s never had the time or money to invest into the complex computer systems that people these days regularly navigate, with the way he’s always in debt, so there’s _really_ no way he could assist in a corporate takedown. 

“The hell do you think _I_ can do for you?” Jeno demands. Unless… there’s no way they’ve found out about his hobbies, right? Although he wouldn’t put it past anyone who can creep through the internet so easily to find out information even he doesn’t know about himself.

The other man shrugs carelessly, though, which isn’t an answer at all. “That’s the thing,” he tells Jeno honestly enough. “I _don’t_ know. My… _employer_ , for lack of a better word, told me to recruit you.” He glances at Jeno again through his lashes, letting a smirk play around his lips. “But I don’t see much worth my time.”

And _that_ riles Jeno up like nothing else does. He’s spent his whole life being beaten down by jackasses like the one in front of him, spat on, belittled, because he doesn’t play the game like they do, because they don’t bother to take the time to find out what he’s worth. He might’ve won his fight tonight, but the adrenaline in his veins is far from wearing out. 

Jeno inhales slowly, letting the red veil of anger drape gently over him, hardening his gaze into tempered steel. He’s been challenged? Then he’ll play. 

“Then what _do_ you see?” Jeno counters, turning in his seat to continue facing the other man as he walks towards the back exit. 

The stranger smirks. “A meathead,” he drawls, backing up towards the door, still facing Jeno even as he unconsciously follows him. The people around them are wasted but have just enough sense left to dive out of their way. 

“Dumb muscle. Just another sucker down on his luck, choosing to use his fists to solve all his problems. Hopeless. So you’ve been knocked down by ctOS? Boohoo, join the club. There’s millions of us out there, and for every miserable, wallowing fool like you, there’s people like _me_ who are willing to bite the bullet and get revenge.” He snorts at Jeno’s glare, unfazed despite being cornered by someone he just watched bash his opponent’s face into the ground. 

“What are you going to do, glower at me? Beat me up? Go ahead,” he taunts. “Prove that you’re the nothing they said you were.” 

But Jeno’s fists stay clenched by his sides. He can feel the wary eyes of the partygoers behind him, wondering if he’s going to start a fight. It’s not the reputation he wants at this very moment, even though it’s served him well in the past. He might not know how to respond, but he _knows_ the other man is wrong. He doesn’t know _shit_.

The stranger cocks his head at Jeno’s wordlessness. “Oh? Not gonna take the bait?” His expression stays shrewd as ever, but there’s a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes. They’re face to face now, close enough Jeno can feel the slight puff of air from the other man’s laugh. “Guess you’re a little smarter than you look.” 

The stranger reaches a hand out towards Jeno’s face, and he flinches automatically, but all he feels are fingers brushing his hair behind his ear, inserting something small and plastic into it. Jeno jerks his head to one side, letting the object fall into his hand. It’s a seamless earpiece, all white, the most high-tech thing he’s ever seen, probably worth more than he’s ever earned in his life. 

The stranger gently curls Jeno’s fingers around the earpiece. “The recruitment offer’s still on the table.” He jerks his chin at Jeno’s fist. “Directions are in there, if you can crack them.” The slighter man stares back up at his confused expression, nodding to himself at whatever he finds in his face. 

“The name’s Renjun. I’ll see you soon, hopefully. Prove me wrong about who you are, Lee Jeno.”

Renjun ducks under Jeno’s arm and slips out the back door, leaving the boxer staring out into the night at his retreating figure.

* * *

Renjun curses silently as he leaves the club. He didn’t know why Mark had been so gung ho about recruiting that Jeno guy, but he probably royally fucked up by antagonizing him like that. 

Renjun sighs, tilting his head back to let his exhale puff away visibly in the cold of night. There was just something about the blond that he had taken so personally, the aimless fury reminded him of his own feelings a few years ago, the angry helplessness he felt at being unable to fight injustice in a way that produced results, before he had learned to hack or develop any kind of rebellious skill.

Renjun hated being reminded of his own weak past, and Jeno felt like someone on his way to what Renjun could’ve become: all that world-weary hate and nowhere to aim it. 

Renjun shoves his hand deeper into his pockets, fingertips grazing the edge of Mark’s credit card. Mark hadn’t asked for it back, after all. Much to his surprise though, he feels _two_ cards in his pocket where previously there had only been one. He pulls them both out in confusion.

One is the aforementioned credit card, but the other is a stiff piece of cardstock, completely blank but for four neatly printed words, words that send a chill running down Renjun’s spine.

Don’t trust Mark Lee.

**[show Mark the card.]**

[hide the card from Mark.]

* * *

[The camera view cuts to a different angle of the nightclub, zooming in on a figure in the opposite corner from where Renjun and Jeno had stood. The hooded individual appears to be speaking into a phone.]

“―did as you asked. Please, of course he didn’t notice. Who d’you think I am? …I don’t know, it’s not up to me. Wait, what are you planning?” A note of urgency enters the figure’s voice. “H―”

_Now, who could that be?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlocked: omake!
> 
> [Earlier, in the hackerspace…]
> 
> “You can’t go to the club looking like that,” Mark protests. “They won’t let you in! Don’t you have anything to change into?”
> 
> Renjun glares. “With what money?”
> 
> Mark sighs in reply before tossing something at him. “Go buy something good before we leave tonight.”
> 
> Despite his best efforts, Renjun’s jaw drops. “You have the highest-tier credit card? How much money do you make?”
> 
> It’s Mark’s turn to scowl at him. “Just go.” But Renjun scoots a little closer instead.
> 
> “Hey, I know you have a boyfriend or whatever, but, like, school’s expensive and all, so would you maybe consider me as a sugar ba-”
> 
> “Renjun.”


	8. Introduction, Part VIII

Jaemin is beginning to regret waiting outside. He’d been banking on the fact that it was still a weekday, so there’d be less people outside this late, especially people who were capable of recognizing him, like the teenage girls who have begun to whisper and circle and flock where he nervously paces outside the company headquarters. If only his manager could see him now, oh how she’d yell.

Finally, one of them is brave enough to actually approach him while the others cluster around, phone cameras and smart watches aimed in his direction. “Oppa, are you waiting for someone?”

Jaemin sighs internally, letting his eyes crinkle up, since his stage smile isn’t visible behind his black face mask. Hm… how to handle this. “Ah, waiting for you?” He replies smoothly, waiting for them to finish tittering. 

But his fan is insistent, and the crowd is growing by the second. Damn, his ride better get here soon. “I’m heading to a secret schedule, you’ll hear about it soon!”

Someone calls out from the back of the horde. “Jaemin-oppa, are you having a comeback soon?”

An idea flickers in his mind. This might be a good idea, but he’ll have to pull it off. “I’m working on some new music!” He calls back. “You’ll just have to wait and see!” Luckily, a black Audi drives up and Jaemin slides through his fangirls without much trouble, hopping into the passenger seat and whipping his cap off. “Finally,” he groans. “You just had to cut it close, didn’t you?”

Mark snorts as he pulls away from the curb. “Call it karma for your little con last week.”

Jaemin leans in, coyly pouting. “Aww, but hasn’t it worked out for the better?” He’s grateful Mark had enough integrity to honor his promise even after Jaemin had exposed his scheme, but if they were going to work together, it was better not to have any secrets hanging between them. Besides, Jaemin was confident in his ability to judge others’ characters. Honor among thieves, and all that.

“It _is_ a good move since Park Donghyun decided to call DedSec out by name,” Mark allows, smoothly switching lanes as he turns a corner. Urban towers glitter in abstract patterns of lit and unlit windows above them, but Jaemin’s more mesmerized by the stubborn jawline of the man next to him. “If we’re doing this with an entire team, then it’s an opportunity to announce the revival of DedSec, even if our ambitions are different now. Our goal is still the downfall of ctOS in its entirety, but the government deserves a little something for siding with such a large corporation against its people.”

“You mean we’re doing this for revenge,” Jaemin interjects.

Mark nods. “Revenge,” he agreed calmly. 

Jaemin props his chin up in one hand, still blatantly staring at the older man. Just like most of the people he was surrounded with in his work life, be they staff or fellow idols, Mark Lee was a man of many faces, if even Jaemin had judged him a bit incorrectly at first. The information he bought had painted a fascinating profile of a dual life: banker by day, criminal by night. And _oh_ , some of the things he had pulled, Jaemin could only gape in awe at _how_ they’d been done. He wonders what life had been like for Mark to experience DedSec, if only from the fringes, the kind of danger he would’ve experienced firsthand and the kind of man it’s shaped him into since then. Just the thought had been enough to make him nervous, trying to pull one over on someone tempered by cunning fire, but the extra note sent to him had been _particularly_ useful.

Just two words, just ML_0802’s real name: Mark Lee. 

Jaemin was relatively certain that this wasn’t part of the package he paid the information broker for, but that wasn’t a concern he bothered to voice to Mark at this time. He’d seen how agitated the man had been that Jaemin successfully compiled information on both halves of his life, and he wasn’t willing to test Mark’s bullets in such a confined space for keeping it from him until now. He’ll figure out how to bring it up later. Really, this was a life of risks that Jaemin would’ve happily avoided, but Chloe had done so much for him, it was only fair for him to avenge her as best he could.

Mark still hadn’t commented on his blatant staring, so Jaemin figured he’d keep it up until he flustered the other man. He hadn’t encountered a single person before who had been this unaffected by his looks and attention, and it was hard to resist a challenge.

Mark finally glances over at Jaemin, who’s put on his most endearing expression in an attempt to get a reaction out of the older man. “You have the rest of the directions?” He doesn’t comment on Jaemin’s behavior at all.

The idol exhales loudly in surrender, puffing up his bangs. “Yeah,” Jaemin replies, sitting back and digging through a jacket pocket for his phone. They’re hunting down Jaemin’s information broker tonight, the one who had coordinated the sale between him and his mysterious seller. Eventually, Mark wanted to confront the seller directly, but the first step to finding whoever had exposed his mundane identity was the broker.

And Jaemin? Jaemin was just along for the ride.

The Referee was a notorious source on the dark web, known for negotiating all kinds of deals for all kinds of people. Drug trafficking, organ sales, assassinations, you name it, he’s mediated it. Between parties who had no reason to assume that they wouldn’t get backstabbed, the Ref was a godsend, infamous for staying neutral in a world where anonymity meant hidden biases were bound to breathe down your neck in the most dangerous way.

No one had ever managed to figure out how one man could run such a wide network on his own and keep a finger on the pulse of information ebbing and flowing through the city, but Mark and Jaemin were hoping to accomplish the impossible tonight.

“I managed to locate his ping before I got bounced out by his firewall,” Jaemin informs Mark, scrolling through his phone. “Since it was an automatic trigger, and at least 6 other hacks were trying to access data at the same time as me, I doubt he’s noticed we actually infiltrated a layer long enough to secure coordinates. As far as he knows, his safehouse is still safe.”

Mark hums in agreement. “Just a few more minutes then.”

“You should probably let me talk, though.”

“Why?”

“Well, you aren’t exactly” ―Jaemin gestures vaguely― “the most _personable_ guy out there.”

Mark scoffs. “Excuse me?”

“You pulled a gun on me in like ten minutes!” Jaemin protests.

“You were trying to piss me off on purpose!” Mark retorts.

“Okay, fine, you got me there,” Jaemin acquiesces. “But still, let me try to talk to him first before we go in guns blazing.”

“The Ref’s never let any info leak before, no matter the kinds of threats he’s gotten, and you think he’s going to just let us have the data after you talk to him?”

Jaemin shrugs. “Worth a try, isn’t it?” He flashes a toothy grin. “Besides, charming people is my expertise.”

Mark sighs, giving in and pulling into the driveway of an unassuming one-story house. They’re on the outskirts of the city, where towering skyscrapers tapered off and the suburbs reigned supreme. “This is it, then.”

* * *

[A gritty camera view focuses on a figure backlit by a large display of monitor screens. Strings of long numbers scroll rapidly across a few screens, much too fast for anyone to read. The figure is typing deftly into a different window when a security camera display flashes on-screen. Two figures are depicted waiting on a doorstep. The figure stops typing to peer at the display.]

“Oho? It looks like we have visitors.”

* * *

“Okay, look, just let me pick the lock.”

“What? No, what if he’s got some kind of rig―”

“He’ll understand―”

“No, Jaemin, sto―”

“Well, would you look at that, it wasn’t even locked.” Jaemin eyes the man with his head in his hands. Really, if it hadn’t been up to him, they would’ve waited out here all night. “Come on.”

Mark sighs one last time before stepping into the house as Jaemin locks the door behind them. “At least stay behind me.”

Jaemin glances at the gun Mark’s aiming at the ground. He’s in no mood to get in a shootout, but it’s far too late to convince the older man now. “You’re the boss.” 

The house is eerily quiet, and what little they can make out in the dark doesn’t look lived in. Jaemin trails a finger over the coffee table, but it comes away dustless. So someone _has_ been here recently. Looks like his safehouse assumption was correct.

The idol follows Mark carefully into one of the bedrooms, but it’s so dark they can’t sense anything besides the boxes of clutter they keep shuffling into.

Mark turns around, ready to leave. “I don’t think there’s anyone here,” he breathes into Jaemin’s ear. “Let’s just g―”

A wall of white flickers into life against the back of the room. Computer monitors line the wall from floor to ceiling, and a figure in a computer chair is silhouetted in front of their blinding light. “Good evening, gentlemen. Now, the gun’s a little excessive, don’t you think?”

Mark squints, keeping his gun up even though he can’t see who he’s aiming at. “Are you the Referee?”

“Well, depends on who’s asking,” comes the cheeky reply, in a register much higher than either of them had expected. “Wait, is that _Na Jaemin_?”

Jaemin smiles weakly as he elbows Mark to _put the gun down, damn it._ “That’s me, yes.” 

The Ref is already chattering away. “Oh my _god_ it _is_ you! I mean, of course I suspected it from the start when you’d first submitted a request for a deal, but I was like, whoa, no way, what’s an _idol_ doing this far underground, and then you asked for a hacker’s information and I was like oh _man_ but it’s not like you’re the first celebrity I’ve helped anyway, you guys always pay well without trying to throw a virus or something in, too―”

“How did you find my information?” Mark interrupts impatiently as the LED lights flick on.

The Referee, who looks much younger than someone in his profession should, squints at Mark. “Who are you?”

Jaemin steps forward. “That’s ML_0802, I was looking for information on him, and you brokered the deal.”

The young man cocks his head in confusion. “Who― oh! I remember that sale.” He gasps. “Then I know why you’re here.”

Mark nods, relieved to finally get somewhere. “Yes, I wanted to ask―”

“You wanted to ask me to join DedSec!” The Ref points gleefully at Mark. “I _knew_ something was up when Na Jaemin of all people was asking after you, so I dug into it a little and found all this other data on you and okay I snooped _a little_ but I was just so curious, oh yeah you can call me Chenle by the way, but you couldn’t believe what I _found_ ―”

“Actually,” Mark interrupts again. “I wanted to know how you found out who I was.”

Chenle looks disappointed. “So you’re not here to invite me to join DedSec?”

Mark shakes his head apologetically, and the younger man droops further, sighing impatiently. “If you know who I am, then you also know that I don’t actually compile data myself, I matchmake buyers and sellers and mediate a transaction from the―”

“Not this time,” Jaemin interjects gently. “I bought data on ML_0802, and someone inserted a dossier on Mark Lee.” 

Chenle easily catches the flash drive Jaemin tossed his way, rubbing his nose with the other hand. “Wait, who’s Mark Lee?”

Mark coughs.

“ _Ohhh_.” Chenle nods in understanding. “You got doxxed. Yeah, that wasn’t in anything the seller sent me.” He tilts his head to one side, considering. “Interesting.”

Mark jerks his head at the data in the Ref’s hand, fingers still twitching nervously. “Can you decrypt where it came from? Find us the seller?”

Chenle raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to let me join DedSec?”

Jaemin steps subtly on Mark’s foot when he opens his mouth. “We could always use another pair of hands,” he replies diplomatically, shooting a glare in Mark’s direction when he looks ready to protest. “You can’t afford his prices if he charges us,” Jaemin hisses out of the corner of his mouth, and Mark finally subsides.

“Yes!” The Referee cheers. Chenle’s fist pump is childish in nature, but the way he turns back towards his monitors, fingers flying over the keyboard, is nothing but professional. He accesses the files, blurry images of Mark’s lion mask filling the screen. “Yeah, give me one second… _huh_.” As he speaks, his fingers never stop moving.

“Did you find them?”

Chenle shakes his head absently, eyes still locked on screens of flickering code. “This is a little more complicated than I thought. The hacker intercepted the data _after_ I sent it and dropped the files in from a cloud that doesn’t exist anymore. The info’s printless, there’s no way I’m going to be able to match a tag to whoever exposed suit boy here.”

“You can’t get any ID?” Jaemin asks, glancing at Mark who’s too busy mouthing ‘suit boy’ in indignation.

“Nope,” Chenle replies idly, hands still fluttering all over the place. 

* * *

[The camera suddenly flickers, and the screen fills with a different view. A hooded silhouette is seen perched standing on the opposite side of the street. They’re staring down at a timer ticking down on their watch. Seems like it’s about time. The figure holds a phone up to their ear, and the dial tone sounds.]

“119, this is the emergency hotline. What is your situation?”

* * *

Jaemin’s getting bored, but Mark’s still intently watching Chenle scour the contents of the flash drive. “You think you could maybe hurry this up a l―”

The doorbell rings.

The trio freezes in their tracks. Jaemin glances cautiously over at the Referee, who looks just as surprised by the interruption. “Expecting anyone?”

Who checks the door?

[Chenle.]

[Jaemin.]

**[Mark.]**


	9. Introduction, Part VIIII

Chenle shakes his head slowly. “I shouldn’t be expecting anyone tonight…” 

Mark turns away from Chenle. “I’ll go see who it is.”

In the entryway, Mark takes a deep breath before turning the doorknob slowly, but as soon it’s partially open, a hooded figure slips inside, closing the door behind him. Mark immediately goes for his gun again, but the figure grabs his wrist quickly. “We don’t have time for this,” a masculine voice hisses. “The cops are coming.”

Mark freezes. “The _police_ are here? And who are you?”

Finally, the stranger looks up enough that dim light from the streetlamp outside catches on his face. Or, at least, what Mark can see of the bit that isn’t obscured by his black face mask. “I’m someone you can trust, for now. Dude, we _have_ to go.” His raised voice brings Jaemin out of the bedroom, stopping short when he notices the new arrival.

“Mark, who is this? What’s going on?”

The unknown guy speaks to Jaemin directly. “Safehouse’s burned, I saw cops parked down the street, going door to door, probably looking for you guys. We have to get out of here, _now_.”

Jaemin growls as he strides back into the bedroom. “I’ll get Chenle.”

“But how did you know to find us here?”

Even in the dark, Mark can hear the mirth in the other man’s tone. “If the cops could track you down, what makes you think I couldn’t? Just be glad I’m on your side.” He pats Mark on the cheek as he shoulders past him. “We can go through the back gate before they get here. I’m driving.”

“With what keys?” Mark calls after the cocky stranger’s back, but he moves to lock the front door before following him out the back.

The stranger tosses gleaming metal up in the air without looking back, and Mark curses as he pats himself down. He’s been pickpocketed. 

* * *

As soon as Chenle and Jaemin tumble into the backseat, their mysterious newcomer spins out onto the street, wheels screeching as he races off.

“Shit!” Mark yells, one hand splayed against the car door. “Take it easy a little, would you?”

“I think they saw us,” Chenle calls from the backseat, face illuminated by the glow from his laptop. “There’s a police car behind us.”

“You couldn’t have just driven away slowly? So they don’t notice us?” Mark berates loudly over the sudden roar of the engine as the stranger guns it.

There’s a grin audible in the masked man’s voice. “Now where’s the fun in that?” The car spins, his arms flying one over the other, wheels trailing smoke as they turn the corner.

The sirens howl in pursuit. 

“They’re gaining on us!” Jaemin calls.

Mark grits his teeth. “Get us out of here,” he orders, heart pounding as the vehicle swerves again.

“Oh sweetie, what d’you think I’ve been doing,” the stranger purrs without taking his eyes off the road, veering right. The tires scream.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” Mark tries to prevent the panic from rising audibly.

“Doesn’t matter,” the hooded man replies serenely, but the veins in his arms protrude with hidden strain as he drives. “Gotta shake the cops off first.”

Chenle suddenly yelps from the back. “I forgot, oh no―” 

He dives for something in his rucksack, but Mark can’t see what’s happening in the backseat, too focused on keeping himself upright. “What’d you forget?”

Chenle’s flipping open an old mobile, frantically dialing. “Gotta call Jisung, gotta make sure he knows not to go back tonight―”

“Who the fuck is Jisung?” Jaemin demands.

“My partner,” Chenle snaps back, holding the phone to his ear. “You didn’t think I was the Referee all by myself, did you?”

Mark wisely chooses not to reply that that’s exactly what they thought, wincing as he flies into the car door when the stranger yanks at the steering wheel again, swerving into a dark alley and screeching to a halt.

They’re safe, for now.

They watch the police race past, none of them daring to speak until the sirens diminish in the distance.

There’s a collective exhale of relief as the stranger slowly backs Mark’s Audi into the small parking lot behind The Allis. He swings himself out of the driver’s seat, letting out a low whistle as he slams the door shut. “Well that was a fun ride, wasn’t it?” He turns around, only to find himself face to face with three matching scowls.

_Damn, wonder why they’re pissed off._

“How about you start by telling me who you are?” Mark growls. There’s no way he could’ve been followed, with all the precautions he had taken beforehand, and he needs to know exactly how the other man found out where they were going to be tonight.

The stranger leans back nonchalantly against _his_ car, smirk audible in his voice even though they couldn’t make out his expression under that mask. There’s something strangely familiar about his voice, although Mark can’t place where he would’ve heard this man before. “Why, I’m here to join DedSec, of course.”

“You can call me Haechan.”


	10. Introduction, Part X

“Well. Looks like this is us.” Mark stands, hands in his pockets, in front of the motley crew he’s assembled. Huang Renjun, Na Jaemin, Zhong Chenle, Park Jisung, and the ever mysterious Haechan. It’s been a few days since that exciting evening, but they’re all here now. There’s just a handful of them, but the sheer talent gathered in this room could topple a national economy. 

Not that they would be trying that anytime soon, of course.

“Why don’t we… go around and introduce ourselves?” He suggests, observing their noncommittal responses. “I’ll begin.”

“Some of you know me as ML_0802, and some of you have figured out already that my real name is Mark Lee. I’m currently employed as a data analyst by ERGO, but I also own the loft we’re standing in right now.” He gestures to the space around them. “Kun runs the cafe downstairs, but this building was left to me, and you’re all free to move in.” He laughs bitterly. 

“It’s not like the place is occupied these days.” 

Mark takes a moment to compose himself before continuing. “My stepbrother was Johnny Seo, leader of DedSec in Seoul. As we all know, DedSec was… wiped out to the last man years ago, and no hacker team has stepped up to fill in the vacuum since.” He takes a shaky breath before continuing. “And that’s why I’ve invited all of you here.” 

Well, all of them except Haechan, who hasn’t taken that intense stare off his face since they had gathered together in the morning. There’s something… familiar about him, although Mark can’t put his finger on it, and doesn’t care enough to try right now.

“I want to restore DedSec’s reputation here, prove to the world that there will always be people making a stand against those who would want to take away our rights to privacy, to freedom, to live without constant surveillance.

“But more than that, I want revenge. The day of the DedSec raid, they didn’t come in looking to make arrests.” Mark flashes a grim smile. “After all, you don’t come in peace armed to the teeth. My friends, my family, were mowed down to the man by an elite SWAT team intent on wiping out dissenters to hide their own misdoings. And you know what? The government got away with it too, since they were in the pocket of an economic cabal, corporations whose names you hear everywhere you go. They put financial pressure on the authorities to do something, and they got exactly what they wanted. The wealthy, the influential, those who don’t have anyone else’s interests at heart, made a statement in that raid, a statement that they do not give a damn about what happens to the rest of us, and you know what? It’s time we give our reply.”

The sound of slow clapping comes from the back of the room, where Haechan’s leaning against the wall. He still has that hood and face mask on, even in broad daylight. “As expected from our inspiring leader, what a speech, man.” He takes a bow at Mark’s resulting frown.

“You wanna introduce yourself, then?” Mark retorts, and Haechan shrugs in compliance, straightening up.

“I’m Haechan, or FullSun, and I’ve lost the Neo championship to this guy” ―he jerks a thumb in Mark’s direction― “twice now, not that he remembers me at all. So yeah, I’ve heard his spiel before. Of course, like any good rival, I did some digging, went looking for any information that’d tell me how Markie here operates. Along the way, I found out about the, ah, _torch_ Mark carries for DedSec, and now I’m just here for the ride.” Haechan tilts his head, considering. “I’m here to see if Mark has the balls to carry out everything he has planned, and I don’t mind helping out if it’ll keep me around.” 

“I do,” Mark mutters. 

Haechan shrugs, ignoring him.“A trophy won’t mean anything if the biggest competition is dead. Of course, I’ll have the closest seat in the house when the curtains finally go up, and I’ll be right there to see exactly what kind of person you really are.” Although his tone is friendly enough, there’s a threat underneath his words that turns the atmosphere awkward.

Chenle clears his throat. “Yeah, uh, anyways, I’m Chenle, and along with Jisung, we’re the Ref.” He waves jazz hands as Jisung scowls from behind him, distrustful. “I broker sales online for information, weapons, IDs, pretty much anything and everything. I mean, we kinda draw the line at like, human trafficking, but if you ever need an organ or two, I can help!” 

His cheerful smile stands in stark contrast to his chilling statement, but none of the rest dare to speak up in the face of Jisung’s glower. “Yeah, I just wanted to join DedSec, it seemed cool! Like kapow, fighting the establishment from the shadows? Sounds like something to check off the bucket list.”

Renjun eyes him from behind an array of glowing screens. “People might die again, you know. This is going to get rough.”

Chenle shrugs. “Not to quote Marvel or anything, but I’ve got a Jisung.” He elbows the other boy, who reluctantly speaks up. 

“Don’t get any ideas, I’m just here because Chenle is.” At more gentle prodding, Jisung sighs. “But if you need to stock up on anything, I’ve got some contacts,” he relents. “I handled inventory for us, so I can find whatever it is we’ll need. I can fence, and I can fight.” He flushes and ducks when Chenle ruffles his hair in affection.

Chenle beams. “He knows fancy karate!”

Jaemin coughs. “Aren’t we trying to get through this with as little violence as possible?” He asks neutrally.

Renjun shrugs. “Always nice to be prepared, though. And who might you be?”

Jaemin settles back in his seat, letting a familiar smirk stretch across his lips. “Why, I’m Na Jaemin, of course. You don’t recognize me?”

He’s met with a room of blank stares.

“Oh, come on,” the idol protests. “My face is literally on the billboard a street over!”

Mark shrugs. “I know who you are.”

“We deal with celebrities pretty often,” Chenle pipes up. “Including you.”

Jisung nods in agreement. “They’re pretty bad at keeping sex tapes private.”

Haechan laughs. “I don’t care.”

Renjun glances sideways at Jaemin. “You sure you should even be here if you’re famous?”

Jaemin glowers at the room at large. “Fuck you all.”

Renjun swipes at the virtual windows in front of him, minimizing everything. “I'm Renjun.” He nods politely. “Nice to meet everyone. Mark recruited me, too. I’m a university student right now, but classes can wait while we dismantle ctOS.”

“They do say smart is the new sexy,” Jaemin observes, winking when Renjun turns to frown at him.

Mark clears his throat, regaining everyone’s attention. “Now that we all know each other, we need to talk about our next plans.”

But before Mark can continue, a sharp knock comes at the door to the loft.

“I’ll get it.” Renjun disappears into the entryway, but his sharp intake of breath could be heard all the way into the living room. 

“Hey,” a familiar blond mumbles, crumpled white plastic pinched between two fingers, its tangled wires poking out. “I’m not too late, am I?”

Renjun can’t believe it. “Nope,” he murmurs. “Just in time.”

**Recruitment of Lee Jeno: successful!**


	11. Haum Sweet Haum, Part I

_Well, well, well, looks like the gang’s all here._ I’ve _never seen so many liars in one room before, have you? But I digress, let’s check back in on them…_

Jeno nods hello at the room at large. “Lee Jeno. I also got, uh,” he glances at Renjun for the third time in as many minutes. “I got recruited, too. Didn’t really know what the earbud thing did, so I just, um, broke it open and rewired it to an old GPS navigation system.” The blond shrugs. “And now I’m here.”

 _You did what_ , Renjun mouths at him, eyes wide in shock. To have meshed together something that ancient with the sleekest tech on the market without even touching the software inside… Renjun reevaluates his previous opinion of the other man.

“Great! So this is all of us,” Mark begins, clapping his hands together and gaining the room’s attention, Jeno silently slipping onto the couch besides an impassive Renjun. “Let’s go over our next move, shall we?”

He pulls out a clicker, and a series of hologram displays flicker to life.

_Let’s settle in for the show, shall we?_

“As we all know, ctOS is an operating system developed by Blume Corporation used globally to perform municipal duties, forming a network of sensors and data collection that allows an entire city to link various parts of its infrastructure. What this means is that your traffic lights, telecommunications, the surveillance cameras on the corner of every street, all of these are linked to make things much easier to manage. More recently, companies such as HNBC and ERGO have developed electronics that can also use ctOS to help you navigate life. Think of it like Google Maps except you don’t need to ask about the traffic because it already knows where you’re going, when you’re going there. 

“But as we know, ctOS is far from secure, and any corporation can easily manipulate the system to hack into your data, a digital footprint a mile wide that tells anyone and everyone where you’ve been, who you’ve been with, the state of your health, your finances, anything and everything you could possibly think of. And we’ve seen instances of this misuse already.” Mark pauses to look each of them in the eye. “Each of us here today knows exactly what kind of power an all-seeing system like ctOS has, whether we’ve used it for our own purposes,” he nods at Chenle and Jisung, “or been taken advantage of by people who had the money to access whatever they wanted.” Mark tips his head at Renjun’s scoff.

“And that’s what hacking groups like DedSec, and like we, are here to protest. We infiltrate their systems, dig up all the dirty tricks they use, and then we show it to the public. We are here to spread the truth, that ctOS is a flawed system that does more harm than good, that we’d be better off without corrupt capitalism taking advantage of the 99%.” Mark pauses. “But we aren’t DedSec either. We might operate under their name, under their reputation, but their ideals are not ours to uphold anymore.

“DedSec aimed to make things public and let the people decide for themselves, but in the end, they still lost, because the people, the government, let them down. And if we can no longer rely on justice to be maintained, then it’s up to us to _become_ justice.” Mark shrugs. “And if we manage to get a little revenge along the way, well…” He trails off, tossing the clicker to Jaemin, who stands up to continue presenting.

“While our ultimate goal is to take down ctOS, Blume doesn’t actually operate out of Seoul,” Jaemin explains, “so we need to take down local targets that will provoke a reaction from the general public. All kinds of companies use ctOS to further their own schemes, and Haum Electronics, our local smart security company, is the perfect target. They’re rolling out the next version of their system, one that uses the upgraded ctOS software. During the reveal, their CEO decided to call out DedSec by name. They think they’re unhackable, but we know better.”

“It’ll be a great PR stunt, both as a disaster for Haum and a comeback announcement for us,” Mark explains from the back of the room. “We’ll need public approval in order to get people interested in donating their computers’ processing power through our app again, if we want to pull off larger and larger operations.”

“Before they were, well, taken out of commission, the old DedSec was working on a bug that could be exploited in Haum software, and now we’re hoping that the same zero day can be manipulated in the new system. Mark’s run a few tests on the remnants of their experiments, and we think it can work, but we need **access to Haum 2.0** to test it out.”

“Zero day?” Jeno speaks up for the first time, head tilted in confusion. 

“A weakness in the system,” Renjun explains patiently. “Something their programming didn’t catch, something we can exploit before they find out it even exists.”

Jaemin dips his head in acknowledgment. “After we confirm that we can break through their security, we’ll need to test it out in a Haum 2.0 routed house, one of the many model homes I’m sure they have already. Once we **access their servers** , prove they’re using ctOS in ways they shouldn’t be, all we have to do is **let them know**.” He flashes a charming grin. “And then that’ll be the end of Haum.”

“That’s a lot to do already, huh,” Chenle muses from his sprawl on the couch, legs slung across Jisung’s lap. “Who’s in charge of what?”

Jaemin shrugs, tossing the clicker back to Mark and retaking his seat. “Depends on what everyone’s good at.”

Who will be sent to get access to Haum 2.0?

**[Haechan.]**

[Jeno.]

[Jisung.]

[Renjun.]

Who else will be sent to get access to Haum 2.0? 2/2

[Chenle.]

[Jaemin.]

**[Mark.]**

* * *

After the team meeting, they all disperse, and Renjun takes the opportunity to seek Mark out alone, staying behind in the living room as he watches the older man wind cables up.

“Hey,” he begins awkwardly. “Can I talk to you about something?”

Mark looks up at him. “Sure, what’s up?”

“You know the night I went to meet Jeno?” Renjun asks hesitantly. “Well, when I left, I found this in my pocket.” He pulls out the card he’s been carrying around ever since, the words printed on them as bold as ever: Don’t trust Mark Lee.

Mark looks at it expressionlessly. “You don’t know who put it there?”

Renjun shakes his head slowly. “It was a crowded club, anyone could have brushed up against me.”

Mark nods in understanding, pocketing the slip of paper. “Well, thanks for telling me about it.” 

“Can I?” Renjun blurts out before Mark can leave, stopping the older man in his tracks.

“Can you what?” 

“ _Can_ I trust you?” Renjun asks at Mark’s back, the question that’s been whirling through his mind since that night.

“Of course.” Mark turns around, and the smile he sends Renjun is a little bitter, a little sad. “I promise.”

* * *

Their fearless leader had said that each of them could pick a room to stay in, an offer that Jaemin was planning on taking full advantage of, but at the moment, he was more interested in tagging along with someone else.

“Well, fancy meeting you here,” Jaemin drawls, leaning against the doorframe as he watches his masked teammate fluttering about the room he picked out.

“Yes, who would’ve thought I’d be committing crime side by side with the country’s biggest pop star,” Haechan quips back, rummaging through the closet.

Jaemin signs, stepping fully into the bedroom and quietly locking the door behind him. His lazy grin drops into a full-on scowl.

“Cut the crap. What the hell are you doing here? Lee. Dong. Hyuck.”


	12. Haum Sweet Haum, Part II

In an instance, there’s a hand over Jaemin’s mouth and a face pressed up close to his. “Don’t talk so loudly!” Haechan, no, Donghyuck, hisses, pulling down his face mask to reveal those familiar cheekbones. “How the fuck did you figure it out?”

Jaemin scoffs. “You seriously think your _best friend_ wasn’t going to recognize your voice?”

Hyuck swears, running his fingers messily through his hair, letting the hood slip off his head, too. “Damn it, I didn’t know you were going to be here today as well, I _knew_ I should’ve brought that voice modulator.”

Jaemin blinks indignantly. “Of course I was going to be here, you know what happened to Chloe, DedSec was my best bet to get revenge. But what the hell are _you_ doing here? If I’d known you knew how to do all this cyber stuff,” he gestures vaguely, “I wouldn’t have had to scheme so hard.”

Donghyuck sits down slowly on the bed, head in his hands, but Jaemin knows he’s not upset, just… recalculating. They’ve known each other for a couple of years now, after a chance meeting backstage during Fashion Week, one that Jaemin had been invited to, and Donghyuck, being a fashion student, had been interning at.

For a while, they had hated each other, striking personalities clashing in all the wrong ways, but it’d been a long time since someone could rile Jaemin up so much, and enmity had gradually turned into a brassy friendship, both of them lonely in their careers. Donghyuck was the first person in a long time that Jaemin had opened up to about all the hardships he had faced as a trainee, and in return, Donghyuck told him about his own pressures as the heir to a high-ranking family, and the disapproval he faced from them with his corporate bee boyfriend… wait.

“Wait,” Jaemin repeats out loud, mind a wall of white noise as a few names click into place. “Mark Lee. This is your Mark Lee, like boyfriend Mark Lee, like you think he’s going to propose Mark Lee?” It was such a common name that Jaemin hadn’t thought much of the fact that his DedSec target shared a moniker with someone he’d only known by name, but it maybe soothes his ego a little that the man he’s been failing to charm is taken. _Very_ taken, at that.

Donghyuck sighs. “Yeah, that’s my Mark,” he confesses fondly. “He doesn’t know I know any of this, by the way, he thinks I’m on a trip to Barcelona to meet with designers.” The brunet snorts, flopping onto his back, arms stretched out. “Obviously he didn’t question me that much about it, since he clearly isn’t planning on being home either.”

Jaemin sits down next to him. “Why the hell are you lying to your boyfriend?” He demands. “It really doesn’t add up, you _lying_ to him about all of this when all you do is gush about him to me, even though you never let me meet the guy.”

Donghyuck snorts, throwing an arm over his eyes. “What do I say? Hey, Mark, by the way, I found out your brother’s that dead terrorist everyone hates? Besides… you know who I am. Who I’m related to.” He inhales shakily. “Sometimes I wonder if maybe we didn’t meet as a coincidence.”

Jaemin looks down at his best friend, Lee Donghyuck, a fashion student at SIF, but more importantly, the heir to ERGO Incorporated, the billion-dollar shipping enterprise.

“Don’t say that. There’s no way it’s true.”

Donghyuck laughs bitterly. “You’re thinking it too, now, aren’t you? Maybe I was just a happy coincidence, maybe I’m just a long con, but the fact of the matter is, I’m the biggest shareholder in the company, whether I like it or not. Those stocks are a fucking chain and ball, and now they’ve made me a target, too.” He sits up suddenly, clutching at Jaemin’s arm. The celebrity swallows at the determination in his gaze. “Jaemin, I _have_ to find out if I’m part of his revenge on ctOS, and I need to be a part of this. Besides, there’s something I found when I was digging, and I think that Mark—”

There’s a knock at the door. “Haechan? Are you in there?” Well, speak of the devil, and he shall appear. It’s Mark.

Jaemin quickly pushes Donghyuck away, towards the gap between the bed and the far wall. “Quick, put your mask back on,” he hisses. “I’ll get the door.”

Mark knocks again. “Hello?”

“Coming!” Jaemin calls, unlocking the door and opening it to his leader’s surprised expression, knuckles raised to knock again.

“Jaemin?”

The idol adorns his most charming beam. “That’s my name, sweetheart, don’t wear it out.”

Mark flushes at the pet name, before visibly deciding to ignore it. “Is Haechan here? What were you two up to?” He tries to peer over his shoulder, but Jaemin quickly brings an arm up to run his fingers through pink bangs, blocking Mark’s view into the room.

Jaemin shrugs airily, still standing in the doorway. “Just… making new friends.” He blinks up innocently at Mark, who’s more confused than suspicious. “Thought I’d say hi to our mystery man.”

Footsteps approach from behind Jaemin, and he’s gently elbowed out of the way. “Yes, well, you’ve said hi, and you can leave now,” Haechan declares breezily, hooded and masked as before. “Mark, to what do I owe the honor?” Jaemin admires the nonchalant way he speaks, as if that wasn’t the love of his life standing in front of him right this second.

Mark’s brows furrow upon seeing Haechan. “We have to go,” he says curtly. “Chenle has more information for us downstairs, but you and I are taking the first assignment.”

Haechan nods agreeably. “Sure thing, just give me a second?” Mark sighs irritatedly but heads back down the stairs.

Haechan turns back to Jaemin, still smirking at the entire exchange. “Stop flirting with my boyfriend, bitch.” He gets a toothy grin in response.

* * *

“Okay, so, we want to hit Haum as soon as possible,” Chenle explains in the living room, once Mark and Haechan have settled in place. 

He’s working on two laptops simultaneously, somehow typing with one hand on each, eyes flickering back and forth between screens. Jisung is an ever-present shadow behind him, arms crossed and scowling at the displays. Jeno and Renjun are nowhere to be found. 

“I looked over the hardware Mark’s been working on, and there’s just one problem: the operating system’s been updated since the last version, and we won’t be able to hack in using old tech.”

“And why is that?” Jaemin asks. He’s not as tech-literate as the others, only ever learning what he needed to.

“Capitalism,” Chenle replies, waving his hands sarcastically. “They changed all the ports, so we’re going to need to get our hands on their new kicks before they release it to the public. You two,” he gestures to Mark and Haechan, “are going to hit the nearest distribution facility, and bring a truck back here, preferably with one of their security bots in it, and we’ll load it up with our malware from there.”

Their youngest hacker grins maliciously. “Time for some breaking and entering.”

* * *

Haum’s facility is ancient, located near the docks, and the stench of rotting fish hangs in the air even once they slip through the back door. “Have you found it yet?” Mark hisses from his position by the door, trying not to breathe it in.

Haechan continues to type at the workstation. “Now, now, you know these things take time,” he drawls in reply.

“You have a mask, I don’t!” Mark protests, but Haechan walks towards him, clapping him on the shoulder. 

“Then you should get one, too. Remarkably useful things. Anyways, I have the list. Now we need to go match the license plate to the trucks out back. We’re looking for 19-7921.”

Mark scowls, but follows him out again. They slip through some gates, evading the scant patrol by hiding behind the shipping containers scattered throughout the area, but they can never stop in one place for too long.

Haechan suddenly taps him on the shoulder, and Mark almost jumps out of his skin. “There.” Mark squints towards the direction he’s pointing at, but he can’t make out the plates at this distance.

“You’re sure?”

Haechan taps his own cheek, and Mark notices the neon blue gleam reflected in his eye. “You didn’t wear your earpiece?” Haechan asks.

Mark shakes his head, tilting his head so a different black earpiece is visible. “The screen overlay interferes with my depth perception, and I’m our manpower this time, so…” He trails off, gesturing to the gun in his hand.

Haechan hums in understanding, but he has a different question in mind. “Why did you pick me to storm the facility with you?”

Mark frowns at the non sequitur, but before he can answer, there’s a shout behind him. Haum’s security has noticed the intruders. Mark swears, grabbing Haechan by the shoulders and flipping them both inside the shipping container they’d been hiding behind. The shots they dodged ping into the dense metal, but they won’t be safe here for long.

Mark peers back out, spotting two men from the second floor of a warehouse, then pulls his head back as they shoot again, bullets denting the side of the intermodal container. “Shit, we’ve been spotted, I’m going to distract them, you have to get to the truck, but I’ll meet you back at base.” He makes to leave, but Haechan suddenly tugs him inside again.

This close, Mark can identify the slight scatter of freckles underneath dark bangs, despite that black mask still hiding most of Haechan’s face. His gaze is intent, searching Mark’s eyes for an answer. “I asked you a question.”

Mark sighs impatiently. “We don’t have time for this right now—”

“Answer me.”

Mark snarls in frustration as more shots bounce off the side of the shipping container. “Because I don’t trust you, because I don’t know why you’re here, but if I’m going to risk sending anyone’s skin out with you, it’ll be me, so you better have my fucking back out there, do you understand me?” 

Haechan stays silent, but his gaze steadies at Mark’s outburst, and Mark doesn’t get it, he really doesn’t. “Crystal.” 

Mark nods jerkily. “Fine. Then I’m going towards the warehouse. Truck’s in the opposite direction, let me know if you can’t get the gates open.” This time, Haechan watches him leave, exhaling deeply.

But he can’t stay calm for long, not when he notices a third guard creeping up on Mark, gun aimed at his back. Mark, who is too intent on the patrol above him to notice. Mark, who is going to die.

Haechan…

[calls out in warning.]

**[shoots the third guard.]**


	13. Haum Sweet Haum, Part III

Whatever his conflicting thoughts may be, that’s still _Mark_ out there. In one smooth motion, Haechan has his gun aimed at the guard’s back.

The shot rings out smoothly through the shipyard, causing Mark and the other two guards to all flinch and drop to the ground. The third guard drops immediately, red pooling out sluggishly from beneath his prone form. Haechan doesn’t have time to check on whether Mark recovers his senses in time, breaking into a sprint towards the truck and praying they didn’t notice that Mark hadn’t stormed the place alone.

Fortunately, his luck holds as he lays low in the cab of the truck, eyes glued to the rearview mirror as he watches Mark slowly draw the attention of the warehouse guards towards the opposite side of the building. His boyfriend’s face is stony, though, in a way he hasn’t seen in years, but that’s a worry for later.

As soon as he can’t see the guards’ faces anymore, Haechan steps on the gas. He steers the truck with one hand as he types into his phone with the other, hacking the gates into staying open for him. Over the comms, Chenle’s voice crackles to life. “There’s a lot of gunfire coming through,” the younger man says calmly. “Are both of you okay?”

Haechan risks one last glance through the window, but Mark is nowhere to be seen, so he focuses on backing up through the slowly-opening gates instead. “I’m fine,” he replies to Chenle. “Don’t have visuals on Mark, try tapping him again.”

“Don’t bother.” Mark’s curtness cuts through the static, and he’s audibly catching his breath. “I’m fine. Get back to base. We need to talk.” He clicks out of his end again. Haechan bites his lip so hard he tastes copper.

Chenle whistles gleefully. “Well, you sure made someone mad.”

Haechan scowls as he turns onto the main road. “Shut up.”

* * *

Haechan has barely turned the truck off in the coffee shop’s garage when Mark yanks him bodily out of the cab. “Whoa!” Haechan yells, hands up in surrender as Mark cages him in against the side of the truck. “Hands off the merchandise there, friend.” 

Mark looks _furious_. “You want to tell me what that stupid stunt back there was?” He demands, and Haechan glares back, refusing to give in.

“What do you mean stupid?” Haechan counters hotly. “I saved your life!”

Mark looks incredulous. “At the expense of someone else’s? Haechan, you _killed_ someone back there. I turned his body over, he was dead before he hit the ground.”

Haechan juts his chin out stubbornly, ignoring the way his hands shake. In adrenaline, fear, or anger, he’s not sure. He didn’t think he would have blood on his hands this early in the game. But it doesn’t matter. “You would’ve done the same.”

“No, no I wouldn’t have! The only bullets I loaded are stun bullets.”

“But—”

“No, you need to listen to me.” Mark glares. “We have a lot of work to do, but we need to try to get through this with as little loss of life as possible. He wouldn’t have killed me. Those guards are trained to arrest and detain, not shoot on sight.”

“You don’t know that.” This time, it’s Haechan’s voice that cracks. He could’ve lost Mark forever, and he can’t even make the other man see that. Guess it was a good decision to infiltrate Mark’s plans, though, if it meant his idiot was going to move this recklessly.

Mark scowls, hands clenched into fists on either side of Haechan’s face. “And you don’t know that he _would_ have shot me!” He inhales deeply, stepping back, but his expression softens. “You… did have my back out there though,” he relents. “And I’m grateful for that. But we need the public on _our_ side, and killing innocents doesn’t make us look good.”

Haechan nods jerkily once, eyes trained downwards as he tries to regain his composure. Mark sighs and claps him on the shoulder. “Take your time, but come inside, alright? We have a lot to do.” The older man leaves, and Haechan finally slumps to the ground. His legs are so weak. His phone vibrates in one pocket, and he doesn’t want to answer, but one glance at the caller ID has him freezing.

It’s Mark. He answers the call. “H-hello?” 

“Hyuck-ah, did I wake you? It must be really early there, huh?” Oh, he forgot Mark still thinks he’s in Barcelona. Haechan does some quick mental math.

“Yeah, I just woke up,” he responds quietly. He’s lying. They both are. But it’d hurt more to have ignored his call. “What’s up, Mark?”

A tired laugh comes from the other end of the line. “Just wanted to hear your voice. It’s been a long day already.” His voice is so soft and affectionate, a complete turnaround from the fiery man who had all but pinned him to the side of the truck.

Haechan draws his knees up to his chest, fingers tightening around his phone. “Yeah? Want to talk about it?” The strangeness of knowing the truth sends a painful throb through his chest.

Mark sighs. “Just a coworker being… difficult, even though he had the right intentions. I lost my temper at him. He probably didn’t deserve it.”

Haechan lets a shaky smile rise unbidden to his face, even though there’s no one around to see it. “Yeah? Sounds like a trouble maker.” He sniffles wetly. The haze of adrenaline from their heist is lifting, and the consequences of what he’s done are starting to hit him. He _killed_ someone. He had his reasons, but someone is _dead_ because of him.

And for Mark, he’d do it again.

“You have no idea. Hey, are you okay?” Mark sounds concerned, probably sensing that something’s wrong.

“Yes,” Haechan gasps, struggling to answer around the sobs wracking his chest. “I’m… I just miss you.” And it _hurts_ , because he can’t _tell him_ , and he wonders if he’s losing himself this early in the game.

“I miss you, too,” Mark responds worriedly. “I have to go soon, but we can call tonight? I just wish I were by your side again.”

Haechan laughs bitterly, rubbing harshly at his eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s almost like you’re right here already.”

* * *

Mark pretends not to notice the red around Haechan’s eyes when he rejoins them in the living room. He’d lost his temper when he shouldn’t have, and that call to Donghyuck had cooled him off enough for the guilt to settle in. He ignores the concerned glance Jaemin sends Haechan, too. Not a particularly difficult thing to do when Chenle’s right in front of him digging violently through all the packages, tossing cardboard behind him without looking.

“Trash. Trash. Oh, _that_ one’s fun, but it’s still trash.”

Mark quickly sidesteps a box flying at his head. “Come on, tell me we got something good.”

“Trash, more trash, even mo- oh what’s this?” Comes the muffled response as Chenle dives bodily into a box taller than him, Jisung silently holding onto his ankles so he doesn’t fall in. A few loud ripping sounds later, and the box is torn to shreds to reveal a large capsule-shaped robot.

“Oh, yes!” Chenle cheers once Jisung’s tugged him back onto his feet. “Jackpot!”

Jeno eyes the tech warily from where he’s crept into the room. “What is it?”

Renjun gingerly prods the robot, which stays silent and unmoving. “Looks like Haum’s new OS is a security bot. Are you sure this is going to be useful?”

Mark shrugs, pulling out a laptop. “Let’s find out.”

* * *

Jeno’s in heaven. He’s never worked with anything this high-tech before, but the snap of wires and the smell of soldering are comforting in their familiarity, and even the sound of approaching footsteps behind him can’t throw him off his rhythm.

It’s the pretty pink one leaning against his table, whose smirk never seems to stop toying around the edge of his lips. The type of guy who wouldn’t look like he could hold his own in the ring, but who always came back at speeds unheard of, with every dirty trick in the book. Jeno is instinctively wary.

“What are you making?” Jaemin begins with no preamble, head tucked in one shoulder to peer down at Jeno’s work.

“A tracker,” Jeno replies shortly, hoping the other man would get the hint and leave, but the questioning noise he gets in return has him reluctantly elaborating. “Renjun wants me to build a copy of the hardware, see if we can figure out what triggers the self-destruct code, because they can’t get very far in the hacking if the system keeps kicking them out.”

He jerks his head towards the aforementioned young man, hunched over a holoscreen in the corner of the room and muttering to himself. The empty cans of energy drinks stacked around him are getting to a mildly concerning level.

“I see,” Jaemin murmurs in understanding, still idling by Jeno. “Did you two know each other before all this?”

Jeno frowns, setting down his screwdriver. “No. He said Mark asked him to recruit me.” He glances over at Jaemin, who’s staring contemplatively at Renjun. Jeno doesn’t know why Jaemin’s so curious about their acquaintanceship, but the sudden slew of questions have him feeling a bit… protective. A strange feeling, an unfamiliar feeling, but it’s there nonetheless.

Jeno gives in to his curiosity. “Why the sudden interest?”

Jaemin startles out of his thoughts, glancing down and flashing a rehearsed beam at him. Jeno hates it. “Just getting to know my new teammates a bit better.” 

Jeno shrugs, turning back to his motherboard, but Jaemin stays by his side. The other man intrigues him, a little bit, even though he hates to admit it. From Jisung’s words, he’s picked up that the man’s a celebrity, which begs the question even more what he’s doing here committing crime with the rest of them.

“You don’t have anything to do?” Jeno abruptly speaks, a little unsettled with how comfortable the silence had become. He reaches over for a flathead, but his elbow knocks a few of the microscopic screws off the table. Luckily, Jaemin catches them with remarkable reflexes. Jeno blinks. “Thanks.”

Jaemin smiles more genuinely this time, pouring them out in Jeno’s hand. “Anytime. And to answer your question, no I don’t have much to do.” He shrugs carelessly. “They’ve reached levels of geek speak I can’t understand anymore.” 

Jaemin juts his chin at Haechan and Mark, who are bickering over the half-gutted bot, standing far too close to each other. Behind them on the couch, Chenle and Jisung have procured popcorn from somewhere and are eagerly watching the duo about to devolve into a brawl.

Jeno blinks again. “Ah.” Everyone here is so strange. He’s really not one to talk either though, to be honest. He looks down at the circuits in his hands. Looks back up at Jaemin. “Want to help me?”

Jaemin looks surprised at the invitation, the expression on his face almost painfully innocent in its authenticity. “Really?” Jeno kind of hates it more than the fake smiles, nodding to hide the way he wants to scowl. Instead, he scoots over on the bench, letting Jaemin slide in next to him. 

“Okay, so first…”

* * *

[24 hours later...]

They’re all exhausted, sprawled across the room in various positions and states of consciousness, but the malware works with the Haum 2.0 bot, and all they have left to do is test it out.

Renjun groans, pushing away two empty aluminum cans to shove himself to his feet, wincing at the soreness in his back. It’s the smell of coffee that has him drifting towards the kitchen counter, where Mark and Jaemin are discussing something in hushed voices, and Renjun only has his mostly-asleep state to blame for his instinctive grasp towards the seemingly unclaimed mug on the counter.

Renjun takes a chug and immediately begins to choke. “What,” he coughs, trying to get the bitterness out of his throat, “the fuck. Is in that cup.”

Jaemin gently retrieves his mug of black tar from Renjun’s shaky hands. “There’s more coffee in the pot.” He flashes a wide grin as Renjun glares at him through watery eyes. His teeth are… so present, so pristine, so utterly unstained.

The devil, Renjun decides, tossing back a glass of water instead, did not take sugar or milk.

By the time Renjun can feel his tongue again, the rest of them have gathered at the breakfast nook, and the discussion turns back to business.

“So,” Mark begins, catching everyone’s attention, “the Zero Day is complete. The next thing we need to do is test it and see if we can access an actual Haum 2.0 server. Any ideas?”

There’s silence, and then frantic Googling, for a bit before anyone speaks up. “The Preston House.” It’s Jaemin, sliding forward a tablet showing a sleek, modern house with a futuristic exterior. “It’s a model unit for a wealthy neighborhood they plan on building in the area. Well, as soon as they can push all the current residents out. They invited me to tour the place a few weeks ago, so I could get access to the server easily enough while I’m there.”

“ _Or_ , me and ‘Sung could break in at night,” Chenle offers, “hack the server, and get out before anyone notices. I mean, it doesn’t have to be us, but don’t you think it’s kind of risky for you to be going alone? What if they put the pieces together and realize you’re with us?”

“I can go,” Renjun and Jeno chorus inadvertently, blinking at each other in surprise.

Haechan snorts. “No one said Jaemin would have to go alone. I think I’ll sit this one out though, if it’s all the same to you.” 

Mark nods slowly in agreement. “We’ll have to lay low for a bit after what happened at the distribution facility.” At Haechan’s glare, he raises both hands in surrender. “I’m not blaming you anymore! I’m just saying, we should take it easy.”

Jaemin shrugs. “I’m fine with breaking in, too. Just let me know what you need from me.”

_It looks like they have two ways to sneak in, either right under Haum’s noses or through their back door. Perhaps which strategy they take will be affected by who takes this mission. With that being said…_

Who will be sent to hack the Haum 2.0 servers in the Preston House?

**[Jaemin.]**

[Jeno.]

[Jisung.]

Who else will be sent to hack the Haum 2.0 servers?

[Chenle.]

**[Renjun.]**

[No one else.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> side note: this poll is still running on my twitter! i'll update this chapter with the poll results when it ends :)


	14. Haum Sweet Haum, Part IV

For some reason, it’s always Jaemin waiting for the rest of them. He sighs, leaning against a gate on the opposite side of the street. There are lights still on in the Preston House, a huge waste of electricity when there’s no one else around, since no one’s officially moved into this neighborhood yet. All the houses on this street, the Preston included, were only model homes at the moment, and Jaemin despises the cookie-cutter gentrification.

Renjun had quietly won whatever staredown he’d been having with Jeno, and he was due to arrive any minute now. The smaller man had refused a ride over with Jaemin, mumbling about stocking up on something, but Jaemin wasn’t particularly offended, even if no one had ever turned him down for anything before. He sighs again, and his earpiece crackles to life.

“What’s got _you_ so down?” Chenle’s staticky voice demands. 

“Nothing, just wondering where Renjun is,” Jaemin replies, tugging his baseball cap further down. He didn’t know what kind of outfit was acceptable for breaking and entering, but it never hurt to hide his brightly colored hair.

“He’s like just a few minutes out,” Chenle reports after some brief tapping, presumably at a keyboard. 

Jaemin snorts. “You tracked him?”

“I track all of you,” Chenle replies solemnly.

“I can hear you both, you know.” Renjun’s voice comes through Jaemin’s earpiece and from behind him, and Jaemin spins around to find Renjun with his hood up. Only his sharp eyes are noticeable, the rest obscured as he ties a black bandana over his face. He pulls his hand out of his pocket and tosses something at Jaemin. “Here, put this on. I figured you’d forget.”

It’s a black face mask, and Jaemin smiles brightly at Renjun in thanks before tugging it on. 

The Preston House sits further back from the road, nestled deep in the property among trees and bushes artfully arranged to seem natural but controllable. Renjun picks the lock to the gate easily enough, and it’s dark enough outside that cameras can’t pick up the two figures approaching the house. 

The Preston House is built into a steep slope, and the floating second floor creates a dark overhang that Renjun and Jaemin crouch under to go over their plans one last time. 

Renjun gestures quickly in the air, matte holograms manifesting between them as blueprints of the house. “Okay, just to reiterate one last time: we need to access the main interface inside the house, but there are lasers around the entire second floor, and we need to cut the power supply to those first.”

Jaemin nods, running through his part in his head. “The generator’s on the roof, and I’ll turn it off while you head into the back of the kitchen and hack into the server. We have 2 minutes before the backup generator kicks in, and we need to be out of the house before the motion sensors turn back on,” he recites.

Renjun claps him on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Getting onto the roof is not particularly difficult, nor does Renjun have a hard time leaping onto the patio deck of the second floor, successfully avoiding the motion sensors wrapping around the entire building. Jaemin waits until he sees Renjun crouched near the glass door before yanking the cord out of the generator, successfully shutting off the sensors on the door. There’s something satisfying about watching the entire house go completely dark, even if the Haum security bots begin to whir to life. They’ve noticed that something’s wrong.

“120, 119, 118…” Jaemin chants under his breath, counting how much down time they have as he stares down at the patio from atop the roof.

Now, it’s up to Renjun.

By the time Jaemin sidles into the kitchen, he’s counted down to 95, and Renjun has been swearing up a storm through comms for at least 20 of those seconds.

He strides up quickly behind the smaller man, although he can’t see much in the dark beside the blue gleam from Renjun’s eye, jailbroken interface glowing faintly as he frantically trawls through the server data. 

“What’s going on?” Jaemin questions quietly, still counting down in his head. 75. 74. 73.

“The data’s not here,” Renjun murmurs back, both of them conscious of the security bots in the next room. 

“What do you mean the data’s not there?” Chenle demands through comms. “You have access to the server, I can see it from here.”

“The interface in the house is just a relay point,” Renjun hisses back. “The data’s being stored offsite and I’m trying to figure out where.” 47. 46. 45.

Jaemin presses himself closer against the wall as the bot turns the corner, but luckily, it veers away again, clicking to itself as it patrols the rest of the house. “Renjun. Thirty seconds left.”

Renjun growls in response. “I’m working on it!” 22. 21. 20.

Jaemin gnaws on his lip, watching the emergency lights on the patio. To get out of here, they need to exit the house and take the patio stairs down to the first floor, sneak past 2 more bots, and then vault the driveway gate. He’s not sure if they can make it.

“Renjun, we have to go now,” Jaemin decides. “We’re not going to make it.” 

Renjun snarls, yanking the interface’s keyboard closer to himself as he types furiously, lines of code running across his lens. “We did not come here for nothing and I will _not_ let this stupid thing hide its data from me. Chenle, I’m sending you the coordinates as soon as I extract them.” 

“Aye aye, captain.”

5\. 4. 3.

“ _Renjun_ ,” Jaemin repeats urgently.

2.

“One _second_ ,” Renjun seethes.

1.

“Yes!”

0.

The lights flicker back on with no fanfare, and from outside, the low hum of the sensors resumes. Jaemin and Renjun turn to each other, locking eyes.

How are they going to get out now?

**[Call a friend.]**

**[Sneak past the bots.]**


	15. Haum Sweet Haum, Part V

“We can’t make it back up to the roof,” is the first thing Jaemin decides, pressed into the server’s alcove while Renjun huffs irritatedly from behind him, unable to see over his shoulder. Luckily, he doesn’t need to, scanning through the blueprints with the computer system embedded into his lens. 

“We can make it past this bot,” Renjun whispers, referring to the cylindrical machine whirring past them for a third time. It continues to sweep the entire floor, and each time it’s getting closer to where Renjun and Jaemin are hiding. “But the ones downstairs…” 

Jaemin frowns. “You sure one of you guys can’t get here in time, Chenle?” He hisses over their comms only to wince from an earful of chewing noises.

“Chenle’s deciphering the coordinates Renjun sent because they’re an encrypted shitshow,” Haechan garbles breezily through a mouthful of chips. “And you’re like an hour outside the city. Jeno’s headed your way just in case, but no way he’s gonna make it in time to save your clumsy ass. Good luck, Na.”

Jaemin snarls wordlessly. “Bastard.”

“You two know each other?” Mark asks bewilderedly from the other line.

“Never met him before in my life,” comes the masked man’s cheerful reply.

Jaemin hangs up on both of them. Okay, fine. He and Renjun are stranded, and their team are assholes. They can do this. They can get out of here before they get arrested or… wait. He has an idea. He quickly pulls his phone out, searching up what appears to be a schedule of some sort. It seems that they’re in luck. 

_Really, it was more than luck, not that he’ll ever know. Told you we’d be lending a helping hand, initiate._

Jaemin might actually be able to pull this off. But they’ll have to move, first.

He taps Renjun gently, jerking his head and signaling to the Haum bot that’s inching closer to their alcove. Renjun nods sharply in reply.

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝, the bot announces in an automated voice at the very last second, slowly rotating and heading back outside. Jaemin and Renjun sneak behind it out onto the patio, mindful to keep away from its front camera, lest they be caught. 

Renjun quickly flicks his fingers as he hacks into the security cameras above the doors, looping their footage so they don’t show up. They make their way slowly towards the patio stairs, which lead down to the first floor, pausing to crouch behind deck chairs and the odd grill, before quietly slipping downstairs. Renjun does his magic with the cameras above each door again, but Jaemin spots more bots beyond the glass windows, 2 of them, in fact, roaming through the living room and adjoining kitchen. They’ll have to get past these to slip onto the driveway in the back.

“You think we can make it through?” Jaemin leans down to speak quietly into Renjun’s ear, hyperaware of the security bots roaming the patio on both levels. Crouched here on the stairs, they’re in a safe spot, at least for a little while.

Renjun hums absently, eyes on the warmly lit interior as he counts. From the way the bots make their rounds, there’s little to no room for a blind spot. He shakes his head. “We won’t be able to make it past the living room. I think there’s at least one more bot towards the back of the house, and there’s only so much I can do on the fly. At least Chenle has the coordinates now.”

Jaemin hesitates. “What if… I could get us out of here? It’s not going to be pretty, but I can promise we’ll escape in one piece.” Well, minus their dignity.

Renjun glances over at him. He’s still scowling, brow wrinkled ever since they arrived, but it doesn’t seem to be directed at Jaemin, just their overall lot in life. “What do you mean?”

Jaemin grimaces. “Do you trust me?”

“No,” Renjun replies flatly, and Jaemin wilts. “But I don’t have a choice,” the smaller man continues reluctantly. “We need to get out of here fast, in case Chenle gets caught digging through data he shouldn’t have access to.”

Jaemin continues to frown. He has the beginning of a really stupid plan, if the timing works out, but… “You’re _really_ not going to like this.”

Renjun glares. “I don’t exactly like the situation right now either,” he hisses. “So either spit it out, or we go with my ideas, which are going to involve a lot more property damage than either of us _or_ Mark are going to be happy with.”

Jaemin raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, fine, but just. Please don’t kill me.”

* * *

[At the hideout…]

Donghyuck is having the time of his life, watching Renjun and Jaemin sneak downstairs like unprofessional burglars through the cameras Renjun overrode. The audio’s turned off, ever since Jaemin shut the comms on him, but he’s sure they’ll make it out without being chased by a horde of angry security bots. Even though that’d be pretty entertaining in its own right. It’s not like his own stint with Mark, where the property was crawling with armed guards, so Donghyuck is rather comfortable taking it easy, although the video feeds are open. Just in case.

Jisung had disappeared into Chenle’s room with the other laptop, and Jeno had stormed off as soon as it looked like Jaemin and Renjun were in a spot of trouble, so it was really just him here, at least until Mark got back from whatever emergency supply run he needed. Donghyuck taps a potato chip thoughtfully against his lip, musing.

It hadn’t been as tough as he would’ve thought to live here like this, hiding his identity from 6 other men. Well, 5, really, since Jaemin already knew. Luckily, none of them really chose to eat meals together, although occasionally he’d see Renjun and Chenle chatting quietly over takeout or Jaemin hovering over a pot of noodles while Mark stood timidly behind him.

The loneliness was getting to him, a little, especially since he couldn’t _really_ trust anyone here, and Donghyuck finds himself gravitating more and more towards Jaemin these days, itching for a confidant who actually knew how he felt, but Jaemin himself was already spread thin between the occasional schedule, plotting out their next moves, and brushing up on hand-to-hand combat with Jeno.

Yeah, it kind of sucked, Donghyuck decides, crunching sourly through the rest of the chips. But it was his decision to live like this, at least until he uncovered everyone’s true motives, and he can’t afford to get close to anyone right now, especially when they don’t know that he may be their final target. He smiles bitterly as he tugs his mask back up over his mouth, refocusing on the screens in front of him. Jaemin and Renjun are still arguing on the stairs, and Haechan is about to override the comms and tell them to get a move on, when Renjun furiously starts… stripping?

* * *

“I hate you,” Renjun splutters, wrestling with the hoodie as it refuses to untangle from his hair. “I’m going to kill you.” He snarls triumphantly as he finally wrenches the bulk of it off his body, and it leaves him looking rumpled and young in just a white tee, hair sticking up in the back in dignified affront.

Jaemin thinks he looks a little bit like a cat provoked, fur standing on end and all, but he quickly follows him into the house as the bot outside roams the far part of the yard, shedding his own layers behind him. Renjun has been cornered as he waits for one of the bots circling the house to pass, hiding behind a large potted plant, and Jaemin carefully counts down before lobbing his shirt towards the other side of the room.

The bots won’t identify unmoving objects like that as intruders, although it might give them pause for a moment as the AIs recalibrate to drive around it. In any event, it gives Renjun and Jaemin a little more time to arrange themselves on the couch before the bot can… catch them in the act, in more ways than one.

One of the security bots jerks away from the wall, turning the corner, and Jaemin barely has time to roll over the back of the couch, missing the body and landing with a muted thump on the carpet near the coffee table. He hisses at the suddenness of his fall, hearing Renjun snicker at him as he approaches quickly with much more grace. Jaemin sits up, wincing as he rests his elbows on his knees, but Renjun is already perched cross-legged on the sofa, looking anywhere but at Jaemin’s abs.

Jaemin is a bit smug at the slight flush on Renjun’s cheeks, all things considered, but then he remembers the taser and 2 switchblades Renjun still has in his pockets, and reevaluates the intelligence of oozing out one of his usual pickup lines.

Renjun ducks down as the bot sweeps past. If he’s calculated this correctly, and he knows he has, they have a few more minutes before both bots will move to catch them perfectly in their shared line of sight. “You’re sure this is going to work?” He hisses, as Jaemin slowly arranges them into position on the sofa.

At least Jaemin’s wiped that stupidly cocky expression off his face, Renjun thinks, the idol nodding in response and wrapping one arm securely around his waist. Renjun will tolerate it, for now. It’s not like he has a choice. “Security footage gets sent out to the nearest patrolling unit as soon as the alarms go off,” he repeats from Chenle’s earlier briefing, wincing as Renjun’s knee digs into his belly when he shifts his weight. “There’s no reason they would’ve taken that feature out of the system, even if this is just a model home.”

Renjun doesn’t really have time to be skeptical, letting Jaemin tug him down into the crook of his neck. This close, he can hear how fast Jaemin’s heart is beating, and it’s a little soothing to know for sure that he’s not the only one nervous about the gamble they’re about to pull off.

“You’re certain this is going to work?” Renjun murmurs, one hand sliding up to grip tensely around Jaemin’s shoulder, which the other man doesn’t seem to mind. He’d rather not draw more attention to their intentionally compromising position if he doesn’t have to, and he’s more aware than ever of the well-defined body he’s laying on top of.

“He’s the only one on patrol in this area,” Jaemin breathes into Renjun’s ear in reply, and Renjun hates the way he knows his resulting shiver isn’t from the A/C alone. “And this wouldn’t be the first time he’s found me like this.” A low chuckle. “Now brace yourself.” The arm Renjun’s grasping onto flexes under his grip as Jaemin somehow tugs both of them up into a sitting position.

The bots trundle along slowly, their cameras simultaneously catching sight of the duo shifting upright on the couch. Renjun flinches instinctively deeper into Jaemin’s even though the bots do nothing more than beep loudly, encircling them.

𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍, the bot drones. 𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍.

Now all there’s left to do is wait.


	16. Haum Sweet Haum, Part VI

Jung Jaehyun had been expecting a quiet night, to be honest. A wealthy neighborhood with more empty houses than not, the kind of patrol younger cops like him only dreamed of getting assigned. Perhaps he was lucky, to suddenly get shifted into this assignment, or perhaps there was more to it than just luck.

He snorts. Yeah, right, as if he’d ever be that fortunate. As if to prove him right, the monitor on his dashboard starts beeping, and he sighs as he turns the car around, heading towards the blinking dot on his screen. Really, he doubts there’s any sort of actual crime happening in this kind of area. More likely than not, it’s just the neighbor’s cats fucking outside again or something equally inane.

Well, he thinks sardonically when he approaches the house, all its lights on and security bots beeping urgently, he was half-right.

There are two men wrapped around each other on the couch in what he _knows_ is a model home that no one should have access to, and he might not be able to see their faces just yet, but he’ll be damned if he didn’t recognize that pink hair.

Jaehyun’s posture eases as he leans against the door, tapping something into the remote at his waist so the Haum bots fall blissfully silent again. He’s a little surprised, but he can’t say he’s completely unfamiliar with this turn of events.

“Na Jaemin,” he calls amusedly, watching the brat’s partner (hookup? boyfriend?) retract further into Jaemin’s arms. “And friend. Get your asses over here.”

Jaemin jerks around in surprise, his eyes widening innocently, although Jaehyun notices that he’s breathing rather heavily. Must’ve interrupted them in the middle of something. 

_Or they were a little nervous about breaking and entering, Officer. It’s not always about sex. Even if it does seem that way._

Jaehyun’s seen the look a thousand times before, and as always, he’s supremely unimpressed by Jaemin’s doll eyes. “Jaehyun-hyung, is that you?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, trying to keep his stern expression, although there’s a fond smile making its way up his face already. He’s always had a huge soft spot for the young idol, ever since he made his acquaintance from that old bodyguarding gig, and it’s a bit of a bright spot in his life whenever he runs into the younger man. Usually in compromising positions much like this one, although tonight’s flavor of the week seems a bit feistier than normal, judging from his scowl and the way he hurls Jaemin’s shirt at his face as they redress.

Jaehyun shrugs. Not his problem, really. He supposes he’d be pretty mad too if a sweet night out was ruined by a cop showing up. That being said… “I really should write you two up,” he notes sternly. “Why on _earth_ did you think breaking into a model home was a good place to have a date night?”

“Aw. but hyung,” Jaemin complains playfully, slipping into their familiar banter as he tugs his baseball cap back over his hair. “The clubs are so gross, _and_ the door was open.”

Jaehyun arches a brow. “So you decided to break in with those precious little hacking skills of yours.”

“Like it was hard,” Jaemin agrees brazenly, ignoring Renjun’s incredulous expression and stepping forward to exchange an easy handshake with the older man. “Nice to see you again though, hyung, it’s been a while.” He smiles sweetly. “You won’t arrest me, will you?”

Jaehyun scoffs but gives in, canceling the call he was about to send in. “You owe me a drink, brat.” 

_My, how corrupt of him. ACAB, my friends. But at least this cop’s useful for now._

Jaemin grins, leaning in to embrace him. “Will the Butterfly Lounge do? Tab’s on me.”

Jaehyun grips back tightly, rolling his eyes. “At least _try_ to stay out of trouble?” He jerks his chin at the third man in the room, who looks mildly uncomfortable that Jaemin’s so friendly with a cop. “And who’s the fling? Anyone I’ve heard of?”

Jaemin lets go, stepping back. “Nah, just a groupie.”

“Excuse me?” The other man demands sharply from behind Jaemin, glowering. “I’m a _what_?”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow at how tightly Jaemin winds an arm around the other man. “Now baby,” the celebrity coos. “You don’t have to play hard to get anymore, you’ve won my heart already for the night.”

(Into Renjun’s ear, out of Jaehyun’s hearing range, Jaemin hisses a warning. “ _Play nice_!”)

The dark haired man grimaces. “Yes, of course not,” he intones dully. “I’m just so honored, really.”

_Well, we can’t say there’ll be an Oscar in his future anytime soon._

Jaehyun’s beginning to feel like there’s something wrong here, honestly, but before he can verbally question Jaemin’s taste in men, there’s the sound of gravel crunching as an engine stutters down, wheels grinding to a halt on the driveway behind them. He turns around automatically, only to be confronted, not by anyone from his patrol, but a motorcycle with at least 6 visible traffic violations and its equally rebellious-looking rider.

The blond straddling that leather seat looks young, too, and rough around the edges in a way that Jaehyun sees on the men they bring into the precinct every night. His knuckles are scabbed over, sinuous arms bearing the kind of muscle that comes with real labor, not bodybuilding, jeans spotted with grease stains and worn tears. Jaehyun reaches for his taser almost instinctively, immediately on edge.

“Sir,” Jaehyun calls out firmly, one hand hovering near his belt. “This is private property here. You lost?”

The man steps closer, so the patio lights can wash over his face, and Jaehyun’s impressed at the faded shiner the young man sports. From behind him, though, it’s a choked gasp that almost breaks his focus before the blond in front of him finally speaks.

“Jaemin,” the motorcyclist speaks quietly, and Jaehyun whips around in surprise.

“Brat, you know this hooligan, too?” Jaemin looks a little too surprised for his liking, and Jaehyun’s instincts are beginning to twitch.

“Jeno,” the pink-haired man replies honestly, genuine surprise flashing on his face. He hadn’t expected Jeno to get here so soon; he’d thought he had a bit of time to throw Jaehyun off before Jeno arrived.

_Believe me, the boxer’s more than willing to break a few speeding laws for you, Jaemin._

Jeno’s eyes flicker back and forth between Jaehyun, Jaemin, and the still-unnamed one night stand in the house.

“Jaemin?” The blond says hesitantly. “What’s going on?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun replies sternly, turning to face Jaemin. “I think we’d all like an explanation here.”

Jaemin breathes in slowly. He has to come up with a decent lie, but luckily, this isn’t his first rodeo.

“Jeno’s here…”

[“To fix the car.”]

**[“For a threesome.”]**

Since the information you needed was not at the Preston House, you’ll have to seek it elsewhere. Special mission perk: all characters are available to go. Who will you assign to find the server data?

**[Chenle.]**

[Jaemin.]

[Jeno.]

[Kun.]

Who else will go?

[Haechan.]

**[Jisung.]**

[Mark.]

[Renjun.]


	17. Haum Sweet Haum, Part VII

“A threesome,” Jaehyun repeats flatly, and turns back around to face Jeno, who’s doing a remarkable job of emulating a deer in headlights. Jaemin widens his eyes and gestures frantically at the blond as soon as the officer’s back is turned.

“Yeah,” Jeno begins automatically, glancing back at Jaemin, brows furrowed in confusion. “I, uh, sorry?”

Thankfully, Renjun comes to the rescue. “Why, officer, did you want to join?” He snaps grumpily, arms crossed over his chest as he digs a heel into Jaemin’s foot, presumably as revenge for the bullshit he just spewed.

Judging from the flush rising to the tips of Jaehyun’s ears, this wasn’t how he expected a weekend patrol to go. “You know what, I’m not going to ask,” he finally decides, taking one last look around the room. Nothing’s out of order, at least not as far as he can see. “Jaemin, I better not catch you hosting an orgy on private property again or I’m _actually_ going to take you in.”

Jaemin quickly herds both his boys out of the house, gesturing for Renjun to get in his car as he turns to clasp Jaehyun’s hand one last time. “For both our sakes, I hope we don’t see each other like this again.”

Jeno pulls out first, kicking his bike into gear before driving off, only glancing once behind him to make sure Jaemin and Renjun are behind him. As they turn onto the main road, Jaemin relaxes back into his seat. 

They’ve gotten away successfully. His gamble paid off.

Renjun is in the passenger seat next to him, tugging contemplatively at the face mask in his hands, but he doesn’t seem inclined to speak, so Jaemin takes the initiative.

“For what it’s worth,” the idol begins. “I’m sorry. For what happened back there.” He glances through the mirror as he switches lanes, catching sight of Renjun’s unreadable expression. “For forcing you to act like that with me,” he clarifies. “I could feel your heart race, I know it must not have been the most comfortable of situations, but it was the first thing I could think of to get us out of there.”

Renjun nods, but doesn’t speak, so Jaemin continues rambling.

“Jaehyun used to bodyguard me and we kind of became friends from there. He takes contracts for Umeni sometimes, you know that private security company? And I accessed his patrol schedule years ago just because it was easier because he changes numbers so often, so this was really lucky, honestly. I’m really sorry for having to be all over y—”

Renjun scoffs in disbelief, startling Jaemin out of his worry. “Is _that_ what you think I’m upset about? That I had to pretend to be with you?” He demands, turning in his seat to face Jaemin.

“I, well, I mean, yeah, it’d be the first time anyone’s complained but-”

“Everyone under the planet finds you attractive, as you damn well know,” Renjun interrupts him. “And I’m not fucking _blind_. That’s not what bothers me.”

Jaemin gapes. He can’t help it. He never expected Renjun to just… come out and say it like that. 

Renjun arches a brow. “Surprised? You and I have more in common than you think. Neither of us are the type to be in denial about what we want.” 

Jaemin breathes in silently. He’s never felt like the prey before, and for the first time in his life, he’s not sure what to say. There are no rules to this situation, no script to play off of.

“But I'm not here to inflate your ego,” Renjun continues, as if he hadn’t sent Jaemin reeling already. “You’re right, I’m upset. You’re just wrong about what I’m actually frustrated over.”

Renjun looks down at his hands in his lap, coiled into tight fists. “We’re all here because we have something against ctOS, right? Well, it doesn’t really matter what happened, but my story ended with me in prison. It was only a few weeks, but it was the worst experience of my life.”

Jaemin doesn’t know what to say in response to that, and Renjun bares his teeth grimly in a facsimile of a smile.

“In there, they don’t treat you like you’re human anymore. You’re the scum of the earth just for ending up there, no matter how minor the crime. It’s scarring, and I’m lucky that nothing worse happened to me personally. The cell on my left might’ve been a man who just couldn’t afford his taxes, but the cell on my right might be a murderer.” 

Renjun turns to look out the window, but the empty look in his eyes sears through Jaemin’s mind.

“The guards don’t give a shit. In their eyes, the more people who destroyed each other, the less they had to deal with us. And believe me, those centers were packed.” He snorts. “After all, if there’s one statistic about ctOS that’s actually true, it’s how steeply it’s dropped crime rates.”

He turns back to face Jaemin, who’s doing all he can to steer them back to the city. 

“So forgive me, Na Jaemin, if I hate the way you can play with the police like this, if I hate that the world is more or less at your beck and call. Men like Jaehyun _beat_ the rest of us, and I mean that in quite literal terms. And it’s only your privilege with that face, with that name, that allows you to pull off risks like what you did tonight.”

Jaemin can’t swallow past the lump in his throat, but Renjun isn’t finished. “I’m glad that you’re on our side, that you’re able to understand an _iota_ of why people need to fight back against such oppressive authorities, but you wield your advantages with such _ease_. It's not a weapon you should be in possession of, much less something to use comfortably.”

Renjun tilts his head back against the headrest, eyes closed. “Am I okay with getting arrested again once this is all over? Or possibly even killed if we get discovered? Yes, because at least then I’ll know that I’ve made a difference. That my name is out there as someone willing to fight injustices. But people will be willing to get you out of these troubles because of your pre-existing reputation. You’ll have a second chance. You will never have as much to lose as we do, Jaemin.”

“I don’t fault you for what’s fallen into your lap, hell, I’m glad you were able to think of _something_ to get us out of there tonight. I’m sure you have your own struggles, too. But there are real lives at stake, even if yours might not be, and I just hope you think of the consequences before you act like this again. We might not be this lucky a second time.”

Renjun doesn’t speak again the rest of the drive home, presumably having fallen asleep, and for that, at least, Jaemin is grateful. In a way, he’s right, but it’s… disquieting to hear from someone else. It stings with acidic shame, to realize that he _has_ been treating it like a game, this DedSec business, even if his intentions are genuine. He’s gotten so used to lying about who he is, to the team, to the public, that even reality is starting to feel like just another stage. Chloe would be so disappointed in him, he thinks, gritting his teeth against the tears that burn at the back of his eyes.

Jaemin jerks the car to a stop inside the garage with none of his usual finesse, hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel as Renjun stirs awake. Jeno is crouched next to his bike, but strides over to open Jaemin’s door as soon as the engine cuts off. The blond peers hesitantly down at him. Jaemin makes no move to get out of the car.

“You okay?”

“He has a lot to think about,” Renjun replies for him, although his tone is much gentler now. Jaemin hears footsteps approaching, the slight rustle of fabric as someone dips into the body of the car, but he refuses to look up, letting his bangs fall over his eyes.

“Jaemin,” Renjun murmurs, and he sounds sorry, but what could he be sorry about? It should be Jaemin, who has more to apologize for than he thought. Renjun doesn’t make a move to touch him, though, and Jaemin is thankful for the loss of an opportunity to fully break down. It’s all he can do to keep the trembling to just his fingertips. 

A heavy hand comes down on his shoulder, and he shivers in surprise, causing Jeno to retract back again. “Whatever’s bothering you,” Jeno says slowly, carefully. “It’s going to be okay.”

Renjun hums in agreement. “We’ll be waiting for you inside.” The finality in his tone is what settles Jaemin’s stomach the most, the reassurance that they’re still willing to accept him in all his flaws. He flutters a hand limply, gesturing for them to go ahead first while his throat throbs. He… needs a moment to himself. 

As Renjun turns to leave, Jaemin grabs the other man’s wrist. “Thank you.” The whisper is all he can manage. “For your honesty.” It’s something in short demand in his life, however sharply it may have been delivered.

Renjun turns his arm so he can grip back against Jaemin’s hand. “You’re kinder than you know,” Renjun replies. “Just don’t let it get to your head.”

* * *

Mark frowns as Jaemin joins Renjun and Jeno on the couch. Something feels weird between the three of them, but he really doesn’t have time to worry about it. They only have a few more hours until the sun comes up, and they need to hit the next location as soon as possible.

He gestures towards Haechan to lead their briefing. The masked man has been surprisingly serious ever since Mark got back from his outing with Kun, and his demeanor is productive, but it, too, feels wrong. There’s a dearth of sarcastic quips, the kind that usually keeps Mark on his toes, and it feels like he’s stumbling over things that aren’t there. He should be glad, but he isn’t, and that unsettles him more than anything else.

But time is ticking, and the revolution waits for no one.

“According to Chenle,” Haechan begins, tossing the projector remote between both hands, “the coordinates you unearthed at the Preston House lead straight to Haum’s headquarters here in Seoul.”

“Where is Chenle, by the way?” Mark asks, scanning the room.

“Sleeping,” Jisung replies, emerging from one of the bedrooms downstairs. “He’s been decrypting what you pulled from the Preston House for hours now. We just figured out the location a few minutes ago.”

“So we need to break into HQ to access the 2.0 server data?” Jeno frowns. “We can’t do it remotely?”

Jisung shakes his head, leaning against the wall. “The place is locked up tight, we’re going to need onsite access at the very least, and I know Haum hires pretty heavily from Umeni, too.” He looks down at the ground. “It’s going to be tough.”

Mark nods slowly, digesting the new information. “Well, I managed to bargain for a few things while out earlier.” He looks over his beleaguered team. “I guess I’m going to infiltrate them this time, then.”

“No.” Jisung shakes his head. “You’re all exhausted. That’s why Chenle’s asleep right now. Security will be lax later this morning, after the early shift gets in. We’ll infiltrate then.”

Haechan eyes the younger man. “You’re not exactly the image of liveliness either.”

Jisung shrugs irritably. “Chenle’s insistent on going no matter what. And I’m not letting him go alone. Besides, I’ve been twiddling my thumbs around here while all of you took care of the digital stuff. I’m going,” he concludes definitively, and the rest of them mumble something or other in assent. Jisung surveys the exhaustion clinging to all of them and decides he doesn’t have anything else to say, returning to his and Chenle’s bedroom.

He’s got things to pack, especially if Mark has some new goodies.

What will Jisung take with him?

[The drone.]

**[The ranged stun gun.]**


	18. Haum Sweet Haum, Part VIII

For a moment, Jisung’s not sure where he is when he wakes up. It’s a feeling he’s all too familiar with, unfortunately, no bed ever feeling like home, but it’s a small sacrifice he’ll choose to make over and over again, no matter how many safe houses they have to abandon.

“Morning, sunshine,” comes the teasing chirp beside him, the one he’s doing all of this for. Chenle looks as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever, splayed out on the bed next to him. It’s rare to see him not working, without a phone or laptop in his hand, just laying on his side, chin propped up in one fist, gazing at his best friend for who knows how long. Jisung turns away groaning, hiding the flushed tips of his ears.

“What time is it?” They’ve gotten used to sharing a bed over the years, sometimes unable to afford more than a single motel room when they’re on the run, but sometimes it’s still unsettling, this proximity that shakes something loose in Jisung’s chest, unable to sleep without Chenle’s soft snoring by his side.

He sings in his sleep. Jisung would die for him.

“Well, I guess it’s not morning anymore,” Chenle muses, rolling out of bed to fuss over the gadgets strewn across the desk. “10pm, actually, so as far from morning as you could get.” He laughs to himself as Jisung jerks up in tangled sheets, cursing as he trips over his own boots.

“Shit, we were supposed to hit the data feeds this morning,” Jisung growls, straightening his clothes as he shakes the tiredness from his limbs. “I’ve slept through the entire _day_ , why didn’t you wake me up?”

Chenle shrugs carelessly. “The same reason you didn’t wake me up after we figured out the coordinates.” The blond looks up at him and smiles ever so sweetly. “You needed the rest.” The irritation drains out of Jisung’s shoulders as fast as it had come. 

Chenle was right, he _had_ needed the sleep after so many nights out doing recon with Mark. While their teammates huddled around screens, Jisung’s talents lay in other fields, and he spent his time scoping out various companies, looking for indiscreet employees whose credentials they could eventually use as access points. 

Mark had told him to look into multiple locations, from hotels to social media enterprises, even a multibillion dollar shipping magnate. Whatever Mark was planning, he wasn’t telling the rest of the team just yet, and Jisung respected him for holding his cards so close to his chest. He himself didn’t care what the older man was up to, as long as Chenle wasn’t taking unnecessary risks.

And speaking of unnecessary risks… “Are you really sure you want to be the one on-site?” Jisung questions Chenle again. “It might not end well.”

Chenle rolls his eyes, sighing in irritation. “Ji-sung-ie,” he draws his name out. “I’m not _stupid_ and we both know I’ve had to do more dangerous stuff before. Besides, you’ll be there, won’t you?” He beams.

Jisung crumples like tissue paper. “Yeah,” he concedes. “Wherever you go, I follow.”

Chenle nods impatiently. “Renjun’s too tired out, and Haechan’s okay with me taking this part of the mission. I’m not sure the other guys are capable of such a deep hack, and we already work well together. You have Mark’s new toy, right?”

Jisung pats at the holster on his thigh for the stun gun, nodding when his fingers brush against cool metal. He just hopes it’ll be enough.

* * *

Haum’s main building is unassuming enough, all considered, sitting innocently in Seoul’s tech district, with a gorgeous view of the Han River. But they’re not there to sightsee, Jisung leaning casually against the server box across the street as Chenle crouches beside him to start fiddling with its keypad. There aren’t many people around at this time of night, maybe a few stray couples here and there, but no one is paying attention to them.

“Found anything yet?” Jaemin’s voice crackles through the comms.

Chenle hums absently through his teeth as he sits cross-legged, tapping furiously on a small laptop. “Sending you stuff as it funnels through. You seeing this?”

Someone inhales sharply. “Holy shit. Haum’s got streams coming in from all over.” It’s Renjun. “I don’t think this is just 2.0 we’re looking at.”

“You’re right,” Mark agrees grimly. “There’s way too much here for the limited number of devices that are already live.”

“I’m going to have to go on-site like we anticipated,” Chenle reports, snapping his laptop shut and returning it to his backpack. He lets Jisung haul him upright as he continues speaking. “We need to infiltrate the servers from inside, see where all this data is winding up.”

“Keep us posted.”

Chenle nods to Jisung, who tugs his hood up more securely over his hair. They’re going in.

* * *

They almost get caught immediately. Haum has an open courtyard crawling with both hired Umeni guards and security bots, and it’s only Jisung’s quick reflexes that allow him to all but throw Chenle and himself into the bushes before a bot turns the corner. They don’t dare to move just yet, because while robots may not be able to judge noises as intrusions, the ex-military guards surely could.

Luckily, it appears Jisung has a solution to their problem.

“How close do you have to be to get those doors open?” He exhales a whisper into Chenle’s ear, eyes flicking towards the entrance closest to them. 

Chenle squints and pulls out his phone. “The next tree over,” he replies quietly, and Jisung nods. It’ll be easy enough to cause a diversion. He carefully unholsters the stun gun, waiting for the telltale sound of footsteps to draw closer, counting down with his other hand so Chenle can see.

3.

2.

1.

Jisung immediately aims the gun at the guard walking right in front of their patch of shrubbery, dropping the man with a sharp bolt of white-hot electricity. He collapses with a loud gurgle, and more guards start converging on their fallen compatriot.

Chenle takes advantage of the situation to run for the doors, and Jisung jumps off the raised platform after him, but he skids straight into another Haum bot, who immediately starts blaring out an alarm. Shit.

“Jisung!” Comes the panicked hiss from inside those glass doors, and Jisung dives through, slamming into Chenle at the last possible second. Somewhere on an upper floor, guards are yelling for reinforcements. There’s no time to waste.

“Server room’s two floors up, let’s go!” Chenle runs towards one of the corridors, Jisung hot on his heels. Haum’s headquarters was technically 3 separate buildings that all faced an inner courtyard, and most of its outer halls on each floor were open to the elements. This made it easy for Jisung and Chenle to be spotted, so they ran towards the server room as fast as they could under the cover of night.

Luckily for them, most of the guards were headed downstairs, and the few men they faced didn’t have enough time to radio for backup before Jisung could knock them down or choke them out. Chenle hovered anxiously behind him as he patted the unconscious guards down. 

“Jisung, hurry!” Chenle yelped as his partner tossed something small at his face. “What’s this?”

“The card key, go, I’ll hold them off!” Jisung was already turning towards the reinforcements coming up the stairs. Chenle bolted down the hall.

The guards were quick to duck for cover behind a brick column, but Jisung had no trouble dragging one out to disarm him and slam him face first into the wall, turning his gun on the other guard as he lets the unconscious man in his grasp slip to the floor. “Put it down,” he ordered, watching the panicked guard hastily kick his gun away.

Jisung slowly kicks it behind him without taking his eyes off the unarmed man before shooting him with the stun gun. Umeni always used live firearms, and with his luck, they wouldn’t even have had silencers, which would’ve immediately sent the rest of their reinforcements running straight towards their location.

Surveying the courtyard from his position one last time to make sure no one else is coming, he throws both guns behind a potted plant before dashing into the server room. It was empty of any employees, and he found Chenle wired in to the data tower spanning the center of the room, muttering something to Renjun over comms as they tried to download all the Haum 2.0 files.

Jisung kept an eye on both doors to the room, stun gun aimed at the ground in a ready position. “How much longer do you need? They’re going to box us in here if we don’t hurry.”

“Just a few more minutes,” Chenle replies absently in English, switching back to rapidfire Mandarin as he and Renjun bicker back and forth about decryption methods. 

Jisung crouches down as voices approach the doors. “I don’t think we have a few more minutes, ‘Le,” he hisses out of the corner of his mouth. “Hide, now!” He’s barely finished speaking when the doors burst open and two uniformed guards sweep in, guns aimed but useless in such close quarters. Jisung drops to his knees and kicks out, causing one guard to fumble his gun as he trips, leaving Jisung an opening to punch him in the face, and then the man is in too much pain to put up much of a fight before Jisung knocks him out, too.

Jisung clambers to his feet, but the other guard is no longer in front of him, and the room is far, far too quiet. He whips around quickly, and his worst nightmare plays out in front of him.

The other guard has one elbow hooked squarely underneath Chenle’s jaw, the muzzle of his gun pressed firmly to his best friend’s temple. With their difference in height, Chenle’s almost pulled off his feet, both hands clawing futilely at the guard’s arm as he chokes for air. 

“Let go of him,” Jisung snarls, making to step forward, but the guard digging his weapon further in against Chenle’s head has him stop in his tracks.

“No, I don’t think I will,” the other man sneers. “Now drop _your_ weapon, or your friend gets it. No one’s going to miss a sneak and a terrorist, especially if I shoot him in ‘self-defense’.”

Jisung hesitates. If he surrenders Mark’s gun, they won’t have a chance of getting past this guard, and he has no guarantee that the other man will actually let Chenle go. Chenle, who’s slowly suffocating, legs flailing in the air as the guard hikes him further up by the neck. Chenle, who’s gasping for oxygen but still jerking his head towards the left, the back of the room, as if trying to tell Jisung something, but all the younger man can see is white.

“Come on, now,” the Umeni guard taunts. “Drop the gun, and no one has to get hurt.” Chenle struggles harder in his grasp, and Jisung has no idea what Chenle’s planned, but he’s going to kill this man if it’s the last thing he does.

Jisung…

**[...dives to the left.]**

[...charges the guard head-on.]


	19. Haum Sweet Haum, Part VIIII

Jisung pulls himself out of white-hot rage long enough to dash left. There’s no way in hell Chenle doesn’t have a plan. And indeed, he had no sooner grabbed Chenle’s laptop (because what else would the idiot prioritize over his own life?) than his partner immediately kicked backwards, elbowing the guard in the chin as he instinctively jerked down to clutch his groin. Chenle then quickly grabbed a hold of the guard’s gun and immediately fired the remaining rounds into the ground before bending over and wheezing as he stumbles over the downed guard to grab his backpack from a speechless Jisung.

“What?” Chenle coughs as he hitches it up onto his shoulder. “Did you forget how often people tried to kidnap me? Now come on, there’s no way they didn’t hear that.”

Actually, yes, Jisung had most definitely forgotten, following dumbly in the other’s wake as they made their way back to the stairwell. Much to his surprise though, Chenle unhesitatingly ran upwards, taking the stairs two at a time.

“Where are we going?” 

“Server’s locked by a closed circuit system!” Chenle calls over his shoulder. “I need a higher vantage point to see all the access targets across the entire building if I want to actually break through and take the data with us. Besides, reinforcements are crawling all over the lobby right now.” Jisung glances down at the inner courtyard and yes, Chenle’s right again, the place is crawling with cops. Shit. They’re caged in. Unless…?

They’re still running down the hallway, ducking occasionally to avoid being seen, but Jisung speeds up to run ahead of Chenle. “‘Le, do you trust me?”

Chenle laughs. “What kind of question is that?”

“Jump! Now!” And Jisung takes his own advice as they round the end of the hall, vaulting the low wall of the exposed hallway into thin air and landing on the metal floor of an elevated lift, Chenle scant seconds behind him. 

Luckily, no one seems to have heard the loud thuds, most of the guards gathered towards the entrance like they expected Jisung and Chenle to do something as stupid as walking out the front of the building. Chenle quickly breaches the lift’s controls, letting the bulky equipment trundle across the courtyard with a quiet whir, setting them right underneath a window-cleaning cradle.

Jisung climbs up first, catching Chenle’s backpack before pulling his partner up, and they rise another few stories, stumbling onto the roof and settling behind one of the high-rise towers. Jisung keeps a careful eye out for shooters as Chenle straps goggles on and works palmless gloves up both wrists. They’re an older model of the FlexRings Renjun prefers, but their Referee gig meant that outdated technology provided just that bit more security for a job where infiltration meant death. 

He’ll never get tired of watching Chenle hack like this, spinning in circles like an aimless drunk while his fingers dance through air like he’s playing piano. The goggles are a homebrew, some kind of combination radar and spectrometer that Chenle had invented himself, allowing the wearer to visualize weak spots in any kind of firewall. It’s been their trump card all these years, for the hacks that almost no one could get through without months of preparation, its only weakness the necessity of the wearer being onsite. If any major PTV corp got their hands on the invention… Jisung shudders to think of how much havoc they could wreak. Best to keep this to themselves, even from the other members, at least for now. 

Jisung slowly gets to his feet again, smiling despite himself as Chenle dances further from him. 

One of a kind, he thinks wryly, and he’s not talking about the goggles.

Jisung walks up behind him, tugging the back of his hood roughly until Chenle windmills backwards into his arms, huffing in irritation as he pushes the goggles up his forehead, although he makes no effort to escape Jisung’s arms.

“What was that for?” Chenle whines, tugging the Flex off his hands and shoving them into his hoodie pocket. 

Jisung nods towards their feet. “Look where you were headed.”

Chenle swallows audibly, cringing backwards away from the dizzying vertigo beneath the edge of the roof and further into Jisung. “Oops.”

“Oops,” Jisung agrees, reluctantly letting go and just tugging Chenle back by his wrist towards the middle of the roof, leaning against the wall of the tower. “You get in?”

Chenle nods triumphantly. “All the data’s downloading right now. We’ll have to stay here until it’s done though.” He tilts his head, checking his phone. “Gonna take a bit, there’s a lot I have to upload to our own base.” He taps his ear, turning their comms back on. “Okay, opening the floodgates… now.”

Right as he enters the access codes on his phone though, sirens throughout Haum’s headquarters sound.

“Chenle? What did you do?” Renjun demands.

“What do you mean? I gave you guys access!”

“Yeah, and alerted Haum’s private security at the same time. They’ve got to have an auxiliary system monitoring their connections.”

“As if they didn’t already know we were here,” Jisung interjects.

“Well, regardless,” Renjun continues, “just hole up and wait it out. We’ll siphon everything as fast as we can.

Chenle sighs, slumping down next to Jisung and resting his head on his shoulder. “Okay, well, hurry.”

Jisung groans, frustrated with not being able to do much but wait it out again. They can’t exactly lower their guards either, because there’s a small chance they’ll need to seek more cover than the rooftop can provide. He’s distracted from his silent grumblings by the feeling of something wet dripping onto his shirt, though. At first, he thinks it’s just Chenle, asleep and drooling again, but when he brushes his fingertips against Chenle’s chin, they come away red. Fuck.

“Shit,” Jisung whispers. “Are you bleeding?” He jerks around, dislodging Chenle off his shoulder as the other boy wipes confusedly under his own jaw, looking at the red smears on the back of his hands. 

“Huh,” Chenle remarks, seeming all too relaxed as Jisung unzips his backpack hurriedly, digging furiously through it for their first aid kit. “It really doesn’t hurt, no, ‘Sung, ow, stop!” He paws futilely at the younger man before giving in and grudgingly let him wipe the worst of the blood away with an alcohol wipe.

Jisung is furious. “I should’ve killed him.”

Chenle sighs. “I probably scratched myself when I was trying to get out of his chokehold.” He winces, tugging Jisung’s arm away from his face. “Really, Jisung, it’s fine.”

Jisung looks down at his knuckles, white and scarred skin stretched over clenched fists. “It’s not. I should’ve never let you get into danger.” He could’ve prevented those bruises already fading into view on Chenle’s neck.

Chenle huffs out quietly, reaching out to cup Jisung’s face in both hands. “Idiot. It was my choice to be here.” He looks Jisung square in the eye. “I chose to come to Haum. To join DedSec. And if that means being in a bit of danger, well, it was still my decision. You trusted me to save myself. And I proved you right.”

“You still got hurt,” Jisung counters quietly, glancing away from Chenle’s guileless expression. “What if I hadn’t been there? If he’d caught you on your own… what am I supposed to do without you?”

Chenle rolls his eyes affectionately, tugging Jisung even closer to rest his forehead against his own. “Idiot,” he repeats. “It’s going to all work out. This mission, and the next, and the one after that, too.” He hesitates, his expression falling slightly. 

“Sometimes we get hurt doing what we believe is right. Sometimes we hurt others in the process, too,” Chenle tells Jisung, but they seem to be more for his own benefit, like he’s repeating something he’s heard from others before. “But that doesn’t mean we should stop trying our best… right?”

Jisung falls forward, closing his eyes as he buries his face in Chenle’s shoulder. “No,” he lies. “We shouldn’t.” Because no kind of belief would be worth losing him over.

* * *

Renjun scowls, biting his thumb absently as he follows the data rapidly scrolling across his screens. “Not cool. _Way_ not cool.”

Mark sits in front of his own laptop, brows furrowed. “This better not be true.”

Haechan sidles up behind him, letting out a slow whistle as he peeks at the data Chenle’s sent them. “Looks like Haum’s packaging users together into different streams, then selling access to other companies, mostly… health insurance, it looks like.”

Jaemin frowns. “What does that mean for us, exactly?”

“So you order pizza too often and your premiums skyrocket,” Jeno explains, hands shoved deep in his pockets. 

“And Haum gets a kickback,” Renjun adds. 

Jaemin exhales, leaning back in his seat. “Wow, that’s nasty.”

Renjun shrugs, rapidly flicking between multiple screens. “That’s just scratching the surface. We can probably pick out more targets easily through these lists, because it’s not just health insurance. If you recognize any of these companies, we can prioritize hitting them first, after we’re done with Haum.” 

“Is ERGO there?” Mark interrupts. Haechan glances at him, although he doesn’t notice.

Renjun hums, scrolling through the data. “Yes, they are, although I don’t think we’ll be able to launch an attack on those systems just yet. I’ve heard stories about their firewalls.”

Mark nods reluctantly in agreement. “They’re planning on pushing into the hospitality industry, so they’ve upgraded their security recently, too. I tested a few features, and they’re rock solid. We’d need a different kind of access.” Haechan stiffens behind him, although only Jaemin really notices before the meaning of Mark’s words hits him and he winces.

“Is that why you said if we focused on Haum, we’d lose our opportunity?” He asks weakly. 

Mark sighs, waving a hand at Jaemin’s apologetic look. “What’s done is done. And as long as we can fuck over ctOS, it doesn’t necessarily have to be through ERGO just yet, if other companies on the list are a good lead, too.”

“HNBC,” Jeno suddenly speaks up, pointing to a name on Renjun’s side. 

“The construction conglomerate?” Haechan questions.

Jeno nods firmly. “I used to work for them.”

Renjun hums noncommittally. “We can look into it. For now, we need to pick out some juicy details for the smear vid, and then someone needs to hit up the nearest broadcasting tower so we can fuck up their official press release tomorrow.” He grins at the rest of the team. “It’s showtime.”

Who will hack the TV tower?

[Haechan.]

**[Jeno.]**

[Mark.]

Who else?

[Jaemin.]

**[Renjun.]**

Afterwards, who…

[Haechan.]

**[Jaemin.]**

[Jeno.]

[Renjun.]

will interact with who?

[Chenle.]

[Jisung.]

**[Mark.]**


	20. Haum Sweet Haum, Part X

For someone who hasn’t seen natural light since he moved into the hackerspace, Jeno should’ve expected the noontime glare to be exceptionally harsh, but it still catches him off guard as he squints towards the TV tower a little outside the city proper. The gravel crunches beneath his boots as he approaches Renjun, whose legs swing aimlessly as he perches atop one of the many pipelines jutting out of the ground. This is the first time they’ve been alone since Jeno had been recruited, in the loosest sense of the word, and he wonders if he’s proven himself to Renjun yet.

The boy in question looks up from his phone. “Oh good, you made it.” He crams it back into his pocket, hopping down.

“How’d you make it here before me?” Jeno questions. Renjun hadn’t been there when he woke up that morning, and none of their vehicles had been missing from the garage.

Renjun smirks. “Uber. Come on.” He takes a running start towards the wire fence, scaling it with ease.

The Sutro Tower was one of the oldest serviceable broadcasting towers in the area, and the lack of live security around the place checked out, only a few functional motion detectors left to watch over the property. So, nothing Renjun would’ve had any trouble with on his own, which begged the question why he’d insisted Jeno come with him.

“Okay, fine, I did have an ulterior motive,” Renjun confesses as they climb the stairs towards the main facility. “I wanted to ask you how the fuck you reconfigured the earpiece I gave you without ever turning it on. I mean, if it’s a trade secret or whatever, I guess you don’t have to answer me, but like, what the hell, seriously.”

Jeno frowns. He hadn’t thought he’d done anything special. He couldn’t afford any of the fancy interfaces that were compatible with the earpiece, and even if he could inspect the software, it’s not like he’d know what to do with it either. Luckily, when he broke it open, the wiring inside still made sense, although on a much tinier scale than he was used to, and fiddling with it until it hooked up to a GPS navi proved to work well enough, even if he’d had a hell of a time working with the microscopic pieces.

He tells Renjun as much. Renjun gapes.

“Have a little pride, would you?” Renjun prods Jeno in the chest as he throws up a digital overlay of the motion sensor’s field and peers through the window to the control room. “I know maybe 2 other people in the world who could’ve done what you did. Where’s the ctOS box for this building?”

Jeno’s frown grows. “On the roof, according to the blueprints. But I can’t do most of the fancy hacking maneuvers you do. I never had the money to mess around with that sort of thing.”

Renjun grunts as he jumps up, pulling the folded ladder down. “So? You’ve turned a weakness into a strength, and it’s pretty admirable.” He offers Jeno a hand as he stumbles onto the roof. “Damn, this is a view.” He turns to look out at the city sprawled beneath their feet.

Jeno’s too busy staring at the other man. “You know, I thought you hated me,” he says honestly.

Renjun turns toward him, looking startled. “What?”

Jeno shrugs comfortably. “I mean, you were really trying to piss me off when we first met.”

Renjun snorts. “I mean, I didn’t realize I’d be recruiting a cage dog for a hacking team. And when I met you, I saw that look in your eyes. You looked so defeated for someone who had just won such a risky match.” He walks away, shoulders hunched slightly. “Kinda saw my past in you. It’s not a part of me I like to be reminded of.”

“What do you mean?” Jeno follows him across the rooftop.

Renjun sighs as he wrenches the ctOS box open. “Jeno, why did you join an illegal fight club?”

“It was the only work I could get.”

“Wrong again. I saw your profile, your past jobs. You did a hell of a lot besides just boxing.”

“The pay was good.”

“With a scalper of a boss? Don’t think so, Jeno.”

“I was indebted to him.”

Renjun shakes his head, tapping furiously on his phone until the box beeps in surrender. “Nope, I saw the weasel of a man, too. He was terrified of you. No way a guy like that leashes someone like you.”

Jeno frowns. “I mean…”

Renjun sighs, elbows propped on top of the door as he stares Jeno in the eye. “One more time: why did you fight, Jeno? Why did you come back night after night to get socked in the face for money you could have easily earned elsewhere, at a club you weren’t leashed to?”

Jeno hesitates, but there is no judgment in Renjun’s open expression. “Because every time I punched someone in the face, it felt like I was doing something,” he finally confesses, and Renjun smiles in understanding, although he doesn’t say anything more on the subject.

“Come on, let’s go back down. The back door should be unlocked now.”

* * *

It’s not until they’ve rebooted the servers and overridden the access to the service elevator that Jeno speaks again. “I still don’t get it. You hated that I liked fighting?” But Renjun is already shaking his head as he repeatedly jams his thumb against the up button.

“You have all this potential, all this talent, whether it’s for boxing or tech, like the tracker you made, and it frustrates me beyond belief that you’ve convinced yourself you can’t do anything about where society has relegated you. You were hopeless, the same way I used to be, a long time ago, and I wanted better for you.”

Jeno scowls, crossing his arms. “There’s no reason I _should_ do better for a society that doesn’t give a shit about me.”

“Then do it out of spite, or because _you_ deserve better.” Renjun laughs mirthlessly. “You think I’m doing all this for the people all the time? Fuck no, I'm doing this because _I_ shouldn’t have to live in an unfair society.” He cocks his head as the doors shudder open, 300 feet above the ground. “Revenge is just as acceptable a motivation as anything else, you know.” He offers Jeno a small smile before stepping out into the sunlight again. “And maybe one day, you’ll turn around and find that, yeah, some people do care.”

* * *

By the time they’ve figured out how to align the dish with the news station, the others have arrived at the top of the tower, just in time to watch the sun set and the 6 o’clock news begin.

“Yo!” Haechan calls out, black mask as present as ever as he raises two fingers in a mock salute. Renjun waves absently as he and Jeno huddle over a laptop.

“We brought beer!” Chenle cheers, one arm slung around Jisung’s shoulders.

“And snacks,” Jaemin adds, settling cross-legged onto the floor of the tower next to Jeno, passing around some chips.

Mark steps smoothly over Haechan’s outstretched foot. “Wiped your digital traces downstairs,” he remarks with disapproval. “You’re getting sloppy, Renjun.” The man in question waves him off impatiently.

“Shut it, it’s starting!” Haechan snickers at the look of affront on Mark’s face.

On screen, the camera cuts to another interview set, the CEO of Haum demonstrating an app to the reporter lady. “—sitting here with the CEO of Haum, who I’m told has a little surprise for us.”

“Oh, he’s got a surprise for them, alright,” Renjun sneers.

“As you can see, I’ve brought our newest device with me, and I’m happy to announce the launch of Haum 2.0. With just the push of a button you can—”

“Uh, sir? That’s the DedSec logo.” The camera zooms in on the phone in Park Donghyun’s hand, and indeed, a hooded skull laughed mockingly through the screen.

“Shit,” the man curses.

“Oh, I’m sorry, would you care to comment on that?” The reporter leans in eagerly.

“Turn the cameras off, turn it off right now. We’re done, we’re done here, we—” The screen fizzles to black, but the damage has been done.

**Haum Sweet Haum: mission complete!**

* * *

Honestly, Jaemin didn’t feel guilty at all. He looks down at his hands, the same hands which have just brought a company to ruin, but he has no remorse. They did worse to Chloe. At least these bastards have their lives. The only thing he even slightly regrets is not being able to take the credit for any of it, let them know exactly how tenuous their grip on him is, but better DedSec than nothing, he supposes.

The others are still celebrating behind him, but someone rests against the railing beside him, taking a swig out of a half-empty bottle. It’s Mark. Shit. Now he does feel guilty.

“Mark, I—”

“Save it,” the other man interrupts his apology. “You don’t need to apologize anymore. We’re not equipped to take on something the size of ERGO yet, and it was… ambitious of me to think so.” He glances at Jaemin, smiling slightly at his surprise. “Besides, we did succeed in making people more wary of ctOS again. Shook things up a little. Maybe other companies will slip up as we tighten the net.”

Jaemin hesitates before deciding to blurt out what he’s been thinking for days, if not weeks now. “Why ERGO?” It comes out in a rush. “They’re far from the only company that takes advantage of ctOS’s code, they’re absolutely going to be the hardest to infiltrate, but you have such a personal vendetta against them… Why?” _And what does Donghyuck have to do with it_ , he finishes silently, feeling the man in question bore holes into his back with a glare.

Mark’s smile turns lopsided. “Because I’m pretty sure they’re responsible for killing my brother.” Jaemin doesn’t know how to respond, but Mark continues. “DedSec had been digging into ERGO right before the raid happened, which is why I’ve always wondered what exactly they found that brought the entire government down on their heads. But I won’t stop until I find out, until I can finish what Johnny and the rest started.”

“Is it okay?” Jaemin asks softly. “That we’re taking advantage of their branding like this? Won’t the branches in other countries object?”

Mark’s expression turns stony. “They all but denounced Seoul worldwide when our DedSec was publicly executed. I could give a damn less about what they think.”

Jaemin takes a deep breath. “I just think that… we have the ability to avenge our loved ones, but the reality is that I still had to manipulate you into even considering helping me at first. What about all the people who have also lost loved ones, livelihoods, and the human right to privacy? What about those who can’t afford your services or fight back on their own? Don’t they deserve revenge, too? You took a chance on my request, and it got us more information on ERGO, so we can prepare for our next target. Take a chance on others, too.”

Mark dips his head briefly for a moment, considering. “Fine. I’ll bring up the old forums, and Kun can filter any requests that come through there. But this can’t be our top priority.”

Jaemin smiles, relieved. “Thank you.”

Mark turns to look him in the eye, an unreadable expression on his face. “You’re kind, you know that?” The way a lot of us don’t know how to be anymore.” He gestures at the rest of their team behind them, gripping Jaemin on the shoulder as he turns to leave. “Don’t let it become a weakness.”


	21. Hacker War, Part I

The high of successfully hacking Haum lasts them all of two days before chaos strikes again.

“You can’t just attack any random corp without doing any of the proper research!”

“Oh, because waiting around really got you far with ERGO, huh?”

Jisung rolls his eyes as the bickering starts up again. Mark and Haechan have been going at it since before he woke up, and he’s tempted to finally butt in when an ear-piercing shriek sounds from their server room downstairs. The three of them glance at each other before bolting down the stairs.

“What’s wrong?” Mark demands as they burst in, but from the identical flashing images on all 8 screens in front of them, it’s obvious what has Renjun tugging at his own hair. At the same time, a soft ding sounds from the front door, and Haechan stands up to go see who’s there.

“Citizens of the fucking world,” a disembodied voice sneers from every corner of the room as jagged grins flash across the monitors, interspersed with glitch effects and other unsettling imagery. “May I have your fucking attention.” A mocking giggle. “DedSec is back in action to spam your news feeds. They pretend to be the saviors of your free will, when really, they’re just some script kiddies who want _desperately_ to be popular. What, was going out with a literal _bang_ not enough for you last time? I’d love to shake the hand of whoever snitched on them, really.”

Jisung frowns slightly at the insinuations. He knows enough from Chenle about Mark’s history to know this can’t end well. The man in question stares unreadably at the flashing screens, face pale with trepidation or fury, Jisung’s not sure which.

The figure on screen cackles. It’s a little unhinged, to be honest, the speed with which they abruptly stop laughing. “It all stops now,” they continue. “ _We_ are going to teach DedSec a lesson. And if you think we won’t destroy your system, then please allow me to introduce myself. My name is—”

“Ten.” A voice from behind them speaks up in sync with the video feed. It’s Kun, tie askew, laptop in his hand, scowling at the flashing screens, Haechan close behind him.

“And we are your vision— vision— vision— vi—”

Before Jisung can ask how Kun knows the hacker on screen, the video continues, multiple voices chiming in, layering eerily over each other. A blood-red logo flashes on screen as the audio glitches, looping the last line as the volume increases.

“SHUT UP!” Jeno roars, swinging a keyboard into one of the monitors, promptly shattering it. Glass shards rain down, but they all barely flinch as the video finally cuts off, Jeno’s chest heaving as he lets the keyboard clatter to the ground.

Haechan finally speaks, breaking the silence. “Someone tell me that didn’t just happen.”

Renjun laughs mirthlessly, tipping his head back as he sags in his chair. “Oh, it happened alright.”

“What, precisely,” Jaemin delicately interjects, “did we just see?”

Renjun gestures carelessly. “Someone hacked into our servers, the old DedSec ones.”

“So they have our data?” Mark asks.

“They locked us out of it, too,” Renjun agrees. “Chenle’s trying to brute force the crypto key right now, but I doubt he’ll get very far.”

“Who is ‘they’ exactly?” Haechan demands.

“Another hacker initiative,” Kun explains. “They go by WayV, and unlike DedSec, which mostly aims to overthrow the system, they prefer to take advantage of it instead. They sell zero day exploits to anyone with money, including governments, terrorists, and even the corporations that we tried to take down.”

“So it makes sense that they would try to destroy us for hitting their cash cows,” Mark concludes, but Kun shakes his head.

“That’s part of it, I’ll give you that, but I believe there’s a more personal reason for these attacks.” He smiles wearily at Mark, who looks as confused as the rest of them. “You wouldn’t have known this either,” he tells the younger man, mouth twisting.

“What do you mean?”

Kun sighs. “Some of you may know, but I did fencing work for DedSec, laundering cryptocurrency and negotiating transactions, but my services were not restricted to them.” He nods at Mark. “It’s one of the reasons I wasn’t there the night of the raid, and why they didn’t hunt for me afterwards.”

“Because you were never officially affiliated with DedSec,” Mark realized out loud. “They wouldn’t have marked your files that way.”

Kun nods again. “I was close with many of the members, your brother included, but my business was not exclusive. So yes, I’ve worked with many hackers before, DedSec or not.” He juts his chin at the broken screen. “Including WayV. Ten and I have a… complicated relationship.”

“But they know you’re out of the game now, right?”

Kun shakes his head. “They may have assumed that I coordinated the Haum attack. Which, by the way, very nicely done.” He smiles. “The final broadcast was a nice touch.”

“This doesn’t change the fact that we can’t access our own servers anymore,” Renjun interrupts angrily. “I don’t care who the fuck they think they are, I want the key and I want revenge.”

Haechan rests a hand on his shoulder, which he immediately shakes off. The masked man shrugs. “I agree, we need to stand up for ourselves. Doesn’t look good if a bunch of glorified internet trolls can get the best of us.”

“They seem to be a little more offensive than just internet trolls,” Jaemin demurs softly.

Mark draws one hand over his face. “Fine. We need to find out more information about their operations and see if we can destroy them that way.”

“Spoilsport,” Haechan mutters under his breath.

“I’m going to keep hitting the encryption,” Chenle pipes up, eyes never leaving his screen.

“And _I_ am going to have words with Ten himself,” Kun declares, turning to leave again.

“Wait, you know where he is?”

“No, but I know what clubs he frequents.”

Mark nods, hesitating. “Take someone with you.”

Who goes with Kun to meet Ten?

**[Haechan.]**

[Jeno.]

[Jisung.]

[Mark.]


	22. Intermission I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a Q&A session held on my CuriousCat. Questions were sent to the characters. Submission could ask anything they’d like of any character, but don’t presume all the answers will be truthful.

[There is a screen in front of you that fizzles to life. A fixed view of a completely white room comes into focus, figures scattered in various positions around the room.]

_Well, you know why they’re here, they know why they’re here. Let the fun begin._

**Q: Jisung, is there anyone you don’t trust on the team right now?**

Jisung snorts. “You mean all of them? But I guess if I had to pick, I guess Haechan is the most suspicious. He’s a former client, after all, so Chenle and I probably know more about him than he’d like us to.” He shuffles uneasily. “And he keeps trying to mess up my hair.”

**Q: Ten, have you ever heard of a dude named Kun? Qian Kun? Sexy Chinese bartender guy?**

“Have I ever,” Ten purrs, smirking. “Espresso shots aren’t the only shots he can pull on m—”

Ten is interrupted as Kun punches him in the face.

**Q: Mark, when is Donghyuck coming back to Seoul again? Do you miss him :(**

Mark quickly counts on his fingers. “If I remember correctly, he came back right before we infiltrated the ERGO hotel? I think?” He looks up, noticing the glares from around the room. “Oops. I gave something away, didn’t I.”

He quickly shakes himself out of it, although the tips of his ears are still very, very red. “And um, yeah, I missed him a lot. It’s tough to suddenly live at home alone in a space for two people.”

“Aw, sweetie, I didn’t know you cared,” Haechan coos as Mark scowls in embarrassment.

**Q: Kun, do you want to tell us how you came to know of this… Ten? Were there feelings involved? ;D**

“I take great offense at the choice of emoticon,” Kun responds seriously. “Such offense, in fact, that I refuse to answer your question.”

 _Emoticon_ , Haechan mouths in disbelief behind him. “Dude, just call it an emoji like everyone else.”

**Q: Haechan, why do you keep picking fights with your boyfriend? What’s the point?**

Renjun butts in before Haechan can speak. “For the sex, obviously, antagonism is their idea of forepl—” He flails wildly as Haechan slaps a gloved hand over his mouth.

“Idiot,” the masked man hisses. “No spoilers! And to answer the question, part of it is that when people lose control of their emotions, they tend to unwittingly reveal things, and Mark is keeping a lot of secrets at the moment.” He looks away and grumbles under his breath. “And okay fine, he’s kind of hot when he’s mad.”

**Q: Mark, how oblivious are you?**

Mark frowns. “I’m not oblivious, though?”

“Yes, you are,” everyone else choruses.

**Q: Jeno, what’s your favorite type of explosive?**

Jeno looks up thoughtfully. “Nitrotetrazole is really nice but kind of expensive and well-guarded, so I can’t get my hands on it very often. It’s also good for the environment because it’s lead-free and easily stored, since it loses its explosive abilities when it’s wet. Jisung offers me a good deal from his contacts in Germany though, which is nice, so I don’t have to rely on C4 or mercury fulminate all the time.” He doesn’t notice the others slowly edging away from him.

Jaemin stares adoringly at him. “I didn’t know you cared about the environment, too,” he gushes breathlessly.

Jeno blushes furiously, mumbling his thanks.

[For legal purposes, everything Jeno says is factual although should not be taken as any sort of instruction on real-life applications. In our day and age, nitrotetrazole still has to be used in tandem with perchlorates, which are toxic and bad for the environment. Ecoterrorism isn’t as simple as you think.]

**Q: Chenle and Jisung, have you ever had any close calls while operating as the Ref? What happened?**

Jisung smiles bitterly. “Yeah, of course we have. It hasn’t been all fun and games.” Chenle grips Jisung’s arm tightly in support as the thief lifts his shirt up. His belly is marred with scar tissue, tightly wrinkled skin darker than the rest of his abdomen, silvery in the room’s artificial light. They’re the remnants of multiple stab wounds, twisting across his belly in abstract lines. No verbal answer is needed.

**Q: Jisung, what’s your favorite place and objects to steal?**

“Department stores,” Jisung answers promptly. “Shopping districts and outside stalls where a lot of people are very absentminded about their belongings. You get the easiest marks there, as any street kid would tell you, and as long as you keep moving, you’ll be fine. Obviously, it’s easier if you’ve got multiple people working the crowd, if you can herd your mark towards your teammates. If they find you suspicious, acknowledge them, because a sneaky thief would be trying to avoid their gaze, right? Remember, audacity triumphs.”

[Once again, for legal reasons, everything should be taken as factual and not educational.]

**Q: Jaemin, did you go to university? If not, what sort of education did you have (and where did you learn to hack)?**

Jaemin laughs lightly. “I never went to university! I was scouted by my entertainment company back in middle school and thought it’d be a good way to make myself known, maybe become a good role model for other kids. I turned out to be kind of bad at both singing and dancing, but people seemed to like my smile well enough, and now I do a little bit of everything.”

He grins sheepishly, showing off the dazzling smile he’s so famous for. “As for where I learned to hack, it’s actually kind of an embarrassing story. I had a crush on someone who was studying computer science and wanted to impress them, but it, uh, ended badly.” He glances down, embarrassed. “I ended up accidentally inviting a virus onto their laptop and they lost some really important files. I was so humiliated I ended up learning how to hack just to get revenge on the person who made the ransomware.”

Renjun nods firmly. “As you should have.”

Jaemin shrugs in acknowledgment. “I’m still not very good, but I do know my way around it all now, even if I never got a second date.”

“Good,” Jeno interjects, before looking surprised at his own reply.

**Q: Mark, how do you balance your job with DedSec activities? How many hours of sleep do you get on average omg**

Mark slumps against the wall. “I’m usually unavailable during the day, which is why most of our missions are coordinated at night. It’s kind of exhausting to try to juggle it all, but to be honest, it’s no worse than university was.” A murmur of agreement goes around the room from those who actually attended university. “Um, how many hours of sleep? Like, five or six usually?”

“You should drink my coffee,” Jaemin offers cheerfully.

“You should most definitely _not_ drink his coffee,” Renjun replies firmly.

**Q: Renjun, do you regret not killing the shitbag who stole your academic scores?**

Renjun thinks for a long while before answering the question. “Honestly, I don’t regret it. I think I didn’t realize for a while what it actually meant to end someone else’s life, especially in such intimate quarters. I’ve learned a lot from my time with DedSec, and I think that if we ever want to get rid of all injustices, it means we have to trust justice itself, too, without taking things into our own hands. We can’t ask for everyone else to trust our process if we ourselves don’t.” He smiles bitterly. “If you asked me last year, my answer would’ve been completely different though.”

**Q: Jaemin, how much coffee are you drinking these days? Please ask for more relaxed schedules so you can get enough rest between idol life and DedSec :(**

“Aww, it’s so nice to meet a fan,” Jaemin coos as Haechan fakes a gag behind him. “Well, I’m not drinking too much coffee these days anymore, since I’m officially on hiatus to work on a new album, so I’ve got way more time for DedSec.”

**Q: Kun, what’s your favorite coffee drink to make c:**

Kun hums thoughtfully. “Ironically enough, I don’t actually enjoy coffee that much, even if I do run a coffee shop. I do like a good ristretto every now and then though, since you get a stronger, sweeter flavor.”

**Q: Jisung, which DedSec member(s) get on your nerves, and why is it Mark and Haechan?**

Jisung sighs. “To be honest, they don’t actually annoy me very much. Their weird little fights are pretty entertaining to watch and both of them are good at what they do.” He scowls quite ferociously. “Jaemin though, Jaemin keeps trying to flirt with both of them and always ends up coddling me when they reject him,” he finishes through gritted teeth, trying to shuffle away from the pouting pink monster that’s latched onto his arm already.

**Q: Jaemin, who do you like?**

Jaemin winks lasciviously. “You, of course.” Fake retching sounds from all corners of the room.

**Q: Chenle, how did you and Jisung come to work together?**

“Well, I had to be smuggled out of China for war crimes I didn’t commit,” Chenle explains cheerfully. “So since stranger danger isn’t real, I decided to stay with my internet best friend, but then he got kicked out of the house for harboring a fugitive, and we needed a way to make money, and turns out that selling organs on the black market is way easier than profiting off of Wall Street, and now here we are!”

“Most of that was actually true,” Jisung defends to Renjun’s incredulous stare.

**Q: Mark, have you talked to Hyuck recently?**

Mark glances at Haechan. “In our early days, I usually tried to call him every few days or so.”

Haechan rolls his eyes. “Luckily, this goober couldn’t keep track of the time zones either, so it was okay if he called me at 4am Barcelona time and I still accidentally picked up.”

Mark frowns. “Did that really happen? I feel like I would’ve noticed it.”

“No, you definitely didn’t,” Haechan replies cheerfully.

**Q: Chenle, what’s your favorite piece of tech?**

Chenle leans forward excitedly. “Oh my god, you know those things we found in HSBC’s basement? I swear to god I want my own—” The rest of his statement is muffled in Renjun’s chokehold.

“No spoilers,” the older man orders.

**Q: Haechan and Jaemin, did you experience dissonance between who you are to the public and who you are with DreamSec?**

Jaemin glances at Haechan, who seems lost in thought. He shrugs. “Guess I’ll answer first. Not really, my celebrity persona was always a mask, much like the one Haechan wears, I guess. I think it was pretty easy for me to show my genuine self to the other members once I realized they didn’t mean me any harm, but it was more of a struggle to realize that I deserved their support and could also show them weakness.” He smiles quietly as Renjun subtly scoots closer to him. “The friends that commit crimes together stay together, indeed.”

“I'm different from Jaemin,” Haechan slowly speaks up. “I think I’ve always been able to present different sides of myself to people, like my aunt and uncle or even Mark, but the difference between me and Jaemin is that none of it is a lie.” Jaemin dips his head in agreement. “Everything I do or say might not be anything more than a half-truth, but the truth is important to me. I won’t lie.” He hesitates, glancing over at his boyfriend.

“If you had asked who I really was, I would’ve told you,” he tells Mark, who looks surprised.

“Really?”

Haechan scowls. “Not all of us believe in keeping everything to ourselves, you know.”

**Q: To anyone, if there was a DreamSec theme song, what would it be?**

Renjun smirks. “Start a Riot by Duckwrth and Shaboozey, of course.”

[Most of this AU was written to Electric Kiss by EXO, although Light That Fire by Oh The Larceny would make a good theme song, too.]

**Q: Jeno, when did you learn how to ride a motorcycle?**

Jeno shrugs. “Just one of the many things you pick up when you work in an auto shop.”

“Can you ride people that well, too?” Jaemin muses speculatively before doubling over, wheezing.

“Keep it in your pants,” Renjun replies primly, acting for all the world like he hadn’t just elbowed the man in the stomach.

**Q: Renjun, have you given any thought to what your life would’ve been like if Mark hadn’t stopped you?**

Renjun shrugs. “Honestly, not really, because once I make a decision, I don’t regret what could’ve been. Besides, I’m sure I would’ve joined DedSec regardless.”

**Q: Jisung, do you have ambitions outside of Chenle/the Ref/DreamSec?**

“No.”

**Q: Mark, what do you picture your life to be like once you complete your mission?**

Mark doesn’t answer immediately. “Honestly, I’m not sure if my mission will ever be complete until ctOS has been dismantled completely. It’s something I don’t think will happen in my lifetime, but,” he hesitates, glancing towards the spoiler grinning at him from the corner of the room, “maybe I’ll have some time to just rest, eventually.”

“Oh, not if I have anything to do with it,” the spoiler purrs.

**Q: Ten, what is your evil plan?**

Ten rolls his eyes, an ice pack pressed to his cheek where Kun had punched him. “For the last time, I’m not _evil_. I just have my priorities straight. Also, I’m not stupid, you’re not going to get it out of me.”

**Q: Kun, do you look back and imagine what would’ve happened to you if your name was in the DedSec system?**

“No,” he answers shortly. “Because I’m sure I’d be dead with the rest of them.”

**Q: Jaehyun, how many times have you caught Jaem doing shit like that LMAOO**

Jaehyun groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Once a week since I met him, at least, and who knows how many times he’s gotten away with it.”

Jaemin shrugs unrepentantly. “A little crime never hurts my chances. Adrenaline rushes easily get mistaken for arousal and sexual attraction.”

“You should probably get him tested,” Haechan stage whispers.

[Once again, for legal purposes, the author does not condone committing crime to get into someone’s pants, even if Jaemin is correct about the psychology of emotional arousal.]

**Q: Kun and Ten, what drew you to WayV?**

“What drew me to WayV?” Ten repeats incredulously. “Bitch, I _formed_ WayV.”

Kun doesn’t answer, just letting out a long sigh.

**Q: DreamSec, have any of you considered frankensteining tech to yourselves? If the situation allowed, would you?**

Renjun scowls. “While a good idea in practice, considering the state of affairs in society today, do you really think privatized body modifications are going to be any less invasive than what Haum already tried to do? If anyone’s embedding a computer in my head, it’s going to be me and no one else.”

Jaemin coughs. “What he means is he’s going to get a degree in biology.”

Renjun nods firmly. “And then Jeno can drill a hole in my brain.”

**Q: DreamSec, who’s the most likely to have seriously considered androids and the moral dilemma that comes with attacking something that has some sort of will/humane aspects but is easily controlled and corrupted by preexisting systems such as ctOS?**

Mark raises his hand. “I think I’m going to speak for all of us and just say that artificial intelligence shouldn’t enter the picture until we can ensure ctOS and other malicious spyware are gone for good.”

Haechan nods in agreement. “Androids are a technological fantasy at the moment right now, anyway.”

Renjun eyes the man. “A.I. is getting close though, didn’t you hear about that self-driving car they’re trying to release?”

“That is a spoiler, and as such, I refuse to dignify the question with a response,” Haechan replies firmly.

**Q: Jeno, what are your thoughts on Renjun and Jaemin? Like, more than just coworkers on a team, but as, ah, acquaintances?**

“Why does everyone think I can’t recognize a loaded question?” Jeno asks no one in particular. He glances down, avoiding the expectant stares from either side of where he sits. “I think they’re cool.” Disappointment exudes from both men beside him, but he refuses to say anything further.

**Q: Renjun, who are you most suspicious of in the team right now?**

“Mark,” he answers with no hesitation whatsoever. “I still didn’t know why people didn’t want me to trust him, and he kept disappearing to do shit alone. He’s hiding something about ERGO, and if it puts me at risk, I’ll kill him first.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Mark drawls.

**Q: Not to rant about androids and stuff but how human is human? Under what circumstances can someone put a measure on another being’s humanity? I am simply producing thoughts**

“If it can fall in love with me, it’s human,” Jaemin replies smugly.

Chenle jerks a thumb at Haechan. “What’s he, then?”

“Not available,” Haechan retorts, making a disgusted face as Jaemin blows a kiss.

**Q: Narrator, just what exactly is your stake in this game buddy?**

The hooded figure cocks its head at the back of the room, face hidden under a skull mask, unnoticed by the rest of the room. _I am just here to ensure DedSec’s success. Of course, things would go a lot easier if you were competent, initiate._

**Q: Kun, what kind of trouble did you get into with WayV?**

Kun smiles grimly. “I’m not exactly in _trouble_ with them, per se. You’ll see soon enough.”

“I beg to differ!” Ten calls out, but no one pays him any attention.

**Q: Chenle and Renjun, Flex gloves or keyboard in a non-mission scenario?**

“Keyboard,” both of them chorus immediately, turning to each other with surprise.

“There’s nothing like the feeling of an actual interface underneath your fingers,” Renjun continues to explain. “Flexes are good if you have to do things on the run because no surface is needed, but they’re not very intuitive.” Chenle makes noises of agreement.

**Q: Mark, what would you do if Donghyuck found out that you revived DreamSec and he asked or tried to join?**

Haechan laughs. “Yes, Markie, do tell me what you would’ve done if I’d found out.”

Mark sighs. “Well, you’d probably kill me first because you’d think I’m after your money or position or something.”

“And I would’ve succeeded, too,” Haechan interjects. “And then I’d take over DedSec myself and do a better job than you ever did.”


	23. Hacker War, Part II

“How do you just know where this guy is going to be?” Haechan demands, snarling as yet another body shoves into his path. “Watch it, asshole!” There’s something unsettling about a completely masked man in such a smoky crowd that the other man visibly decides against picking a fight, even through the glaze of heavy inebriation.

Kun shoulders restlessly through the packed dance floor, and maybe there’s something equally unsettling about an expressionless man in an immaculate suit because the hordes of partygoers part ways for him, too.

It’s not until they push their way to the opposite end of the hall, where it’s less packed and further from the speakers that Kun deigns to answer him, bending down to speak in his ear, smelling faintly of expensive cologne. “We were… business associates. I’m what people call a money launderer, and Ten was one of my many clients. Different from my relationship with DedSec, where we genuinely became friends.”

Haechan remains unimpressed. “And WayV...?”

Kun smiles faintly. “Is his newest enterprise, I’m sure. He always mourned the profit DedSec could be turning if they didn’t have those pesky morals, and I guess he’s finally found the talent he needs to make his own hacker collective a reality.”

Haechan shrugs. It wasn’t the question he actually wanted to ask… “Who are you to Mark?” He blurts out. It’s one of the few pieces of the puzzle he hasn’t been able to work out at all, why Mark, who can be so cold in his persona as DedSec’s leader, cherishes this man he hasn’t been able to find _any_ information about, even through the Referee. And it’s not just because Mark is latching on to him as one of his few links to Johnny, Haechan knows this much.

There’s more to the story.

Kun smiles cryptically. “He’ll tell you eventually, I’m sure. But Mark needed my help to set everything up for DedSec’s revival.” He looks out at the crowd, sighing. “Even if I insisted I was retired. Clearly, Ten doesn’t think much of dragging me into this either.”

“And you think you can, what, ask him to play nice? After those cute little doxxing threats?”

Kun shakes his head absently, eyes roving through the crowds again. “Of course not. Ten is a nasty piece of work even when he’s in a good mood. It’s been years since I’ve seen the man. I want to get a measure of him again, and he’s always been a creature of habit.”

Haechan scoffs. He can barely see anything through the smoke from the fog machine, and the strobing neon lights don’t help either, casting demonic red and ghoulish blue glows on the room. “And we’re going to find him in this mess how?” He rises up on his tiptoes, not that it helps any.

Kun clasps his shoulder firmly, turning him towards the bar. “See anyone that stands out?” Haechan glances skeptically in that direction, skimming over the gaggle of scantily-clad girls at the far end, the dazed businessmen, the punks with the colored hair closest to them, and the redhead smoothly serving all of them.

“No…” Haechan begins to say, when his eyes catch on the silver gleam of the shaker the bartender raises up above his head. The man’s sleeves are cuffed back out of the way, and his watch… It’s a limited edition Rolex, one that Donghyuck had last seen a rendition of on the wrist of a Moroccan heiress during Fashion Week. It’s not something a mere bartender would be able to afford. Haechan inhales sharply, and Kun nods in approval.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” But his question is answered immediately as the tattoo on his other forearm glows under the dim lighting, an exact copy of the malicious leer stretched across their monitors back at base. Haechan nervously fingers the teaser clipped to his waistband, but Kun is already smoothly sliding into a seat at the bar, and he can’t do much else but follow him.

“Well, gentlemen, what are you ordering?” Ten calls over his shoulder, fiddling with one of the bottles on the back shelf.

“Ten,” Kun calls out firmly over the music, and the man pauses, setting the bottle down slowly and facing them. He’s stunning under the red glare, all carefully styled hair and dainty gold hoops in both ears, but there is nothing delicate about the poisonous smirk he turns on the duo.

“I’m afraid I’m not on the menu tonight,” WayV’s leader all but purrs, but there’s something lethal in the glare he turns on a carefully blank Kun. “Although you _know_ I’m willing to make an exception for you.”

Kun ignores the provocations. “Is there somewhere else we can have this conversation?”

Ten snorts scathingly. “Is there a conversation to be had?”

“Ten.” The redhead rolls his eyes at Kun’s tone, but he unties the half-apron from around his waist and scoops a suit jacket off a nearby stand as he gestures for them to follow him towards an opulent elevator.

“Marco! Bar!” Ten yells over the throbbing music, and another waiter slips in seamlessly from behind the shelves. “Tao’s always been one of the nightlife hotspots,” the hacker explains smugly to Kun and Haechan, shrugging his suit jacket back on, “even more so now that they have a new owner. Me.” His teeth gleam as the elevator dings quietly, and Haechan can see the resemblance to WayV’s calling card.

The second floor is as quiet as the first floor was loud, only vague thumping heard from the bass downstairs. There are delicate light fixtures suspended from the ceiling in the shape of lotus flowers, and Ten throws a heavy velvet curtain aside to reveal a well-stocked bar, identical to the one downstairs, and immediately flicks over the wine bottles with dusty labels. He plucks one out, smoothly uncorking it before drinking from the bottle itself. He doesn’t offer the others a drink. Haechan hadn’t expected him to.

“Well?” One eyebrow raises as Ten props himself up on his elbows across the counter. “I know what you’re here for. Make your pitch.”

Kun doesn’t say anything at first. “Why would I, when it won’t change your mind?” Haechan frowns. Couldn’t they at least try to persuade him?

Ten snorts. “Then why are you here, bastard?”

Kun hasn’t stopped looking at him, even if the other man averts his gaze. “You haven’t changed.”

Ten bares his teeth at Kun again. “And you? Reconsidered my offer yet?” There’s something about him that reminds Haechan of Jaemin, the way he weaponizes every smile, even if Jaemin had never acted this feral before.

Haechan subtly prods Kun, who glances over at him in subtle surprise. It’s like he’d forgotten there was someone else in the room. “Ah, Ten has demanded that I… service him exclusively,” he explains. “He wants my trafficking business,” he adds hastily, realizing how that previous statement must have sounded.

Ten smirks. “Aw, you know I’d never turn down any of your _other_ services either.” But the playful atmosphere doesn’t last for long, and the hateful persona that Haechan had been first introduced to slips over his features again. “And no, I won’t let go of DedSec’s servers. Not without proper reparations, at least.”

“What kind of reparations?” Haechan asks warily.

Ten grins viciously at him. “Post one of those idiotic vids of yours,” he orders sweetly, leaning in. “I want a public broadcast that says DedSec isn’t worth _two_ seconds, never mind fifteen minutes of the public’s fucking time. Spice it up. Add some tears. If you don’t do it, then I’ll start naming names.”

“Looks like you’re not leaving us much choice,” Kun replies steadily, one hand gripped tightly around Haechan’s wrist to stop him from retorting.

Ten shrugs. “All’s fair in love and ransomware, bitch. And we both know you’d rather join your DeadSec fools in the grave than roll in gold in my employ.” He points at Kun. “So don’t think you can just pretend to want to join WayV.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Kun ripostes smoothly. “Wouldn’t want to, either.”

“You’ll regret that soon enough,” Ten scoffs forebodingly, but Kun is standing up already. “Aw, done already?”

Kun sighs. “You refuse to unlock our servers. We refuse to acquiesce to your demands. I believe we may call this a stalemate.”

“Please, it’s a total victory for me and you know it. But out of curiosity, who exactly did I stick it to this time? Because we all know Johnny’s dead and you’re too much of a pansy to, ah, _perform_.”

For the first time all night, a sparkle of mirth enters Kun’s eye. “Remember the upstart who blew past you so easily at the Neo Hackathon last year?”

Ten’s features twist, ugly with apoplectic rage. “ _Him_ ,” he snarls.

“Him,” Kun agrees smugly. “How’s it feel to be upstaged by DedSec one more time?”

Ten snarls wordlessly, and Haechan can’t resist a cheeky flip of the bird. Doesn’t feel like much of a victory now, does it? “Send the little lion my greetings,” Ten finally sneers. “He won’t be getting any mercy from me.”

And with that, they step into the elevator, and Haechan can’t look away as Ten’s anger cools into an old hunger, that feline gaze locked firmly on the older man in the elevator, a desperation for what he can never have, and it resonates bitterly within Haechan himself. It’s a gaze he sees every time he looks in the mirror, the knowledge that Mark had never given his entirety to him, that there’s a part of his lover he will never be able to pin down with needles through fragile butterfly wings. It’s a thought he can’t afford to have, not as Haechan, not as Donghyuck, not ever.

He wonders what Kun had done to have Ten look at him the same way.

Neither man speaks for a long time, but they exit the nightclub safely enough, and as Kun goes to pull the car around, Haechan calls the only number he can still trust at the moment.

“Tell me you got something good,” Jaemin answers promptly, the sounds of bickering fading away as he presumably steps into an empty room.

“Nah, it was a bust,” Haechan responds just as easily. “Ten’s a bitch.”

Jaemin laughs. “Well, we knew _that_ already. Was he at least civil? Although I doubt Kun would’ve put you in harm’s way.”

“I have no idea, they had this weird tension the entire time? Like honestly, I don’t know why we came all the way out here tonight.” Haechan watches the black Audi pull up to the curb, slipping in shotgun and strapping himself in as Kun smoothly pulls back onto the street. He puts the call on speaker. “How are things on your end?”

“Oh my god,” Jaemin gushes immediately. “Renjun? Our Renjun? Is a fucking _genius_ , he isolated Ten’s lock into one of the old empty servers and somehow separated our actual shit so the ransomware only thinks it’s still fucking us over.”

Haechan sighs in relief before jolting upright. “Wait, that doesn’t deal with whatever information Ten’s already gotten his hands on. Jaemin, he’s threatening to doxx us. Fuck, what if he knows our identities already?”

“He doesn’t,” Kun interjects calmly, eyes still on the road. “Ten’s both arrogant and busy. He won’t have looked over any of your data at all, and this was such a personal attack that there’s no way he’d trust any of his new allies with it either.”

“Are you sure?” Haechan demands with no small amount of panic. “How do you know?” None of them can afford to be exposed, _especially_ him.

“I’m sure,” Kun affirms. “I only mentioned Mark’s hacker identity tonight, and Ten would have bragged for sure if he had already known that ML_0802 is Mark Lee. Overall, he was pretty harmless tonight.”

“Harmless?” Haechan repeats. “ _Harmless_?”

There’s a slight upturn in the corner of Kun’s mouth. “Harmless,” he replies agreeably. “I’ve seen him gut a man like a pig when he was in a bad mood. He was willing to play the intimidation game with us tonight, and if he hadn’t, I would’ve taken you back without ever meeting alone with him.”

Kun glances away towards the wheel, towards a slightly cowed Haechan. “I’ve known him for a decade, I know what he looks like in a temper. Trust in your teammates more, Haechan. Even this lowly barista,” he teases.

Jaemin speaks up abruptly in the tense silence. “Kun, what do you know about the organized crime around here?”

Kun frowns slightly as he tries to remember. “Not much. There are some trafficking circles, but for the most part, crime here are your usual thugs, no one major.”

“Well, we got info that WayV has been helping _someone_ skim from the ctOS-integrated ATM machines around town. It’s funding some group, that’s for sure.”

“So we’ll be ruining Ten’s operations instead?”

“That’s the plan, man.”

Who will go wreck WayV’s malware-infected ATMs?

[Chenle.]

[Jisung.]

**[Mark.]**

Who will go with them?

[Jaemin.]

[Jeno.]

**[Renjun.]**


	24. Hacker War, Part III

Mark’s not usually one to show concern for anyone who isn’t Donghyuck, but Renjun’s scowl is so ferocious as he buckles himself in that Mark fears getting his head bitten off if he _doesn’t_ say something.

“Is everything okay?” He asks carefully, glancing at Renjun’s pinched expression.

“No,” Renjun responds shortly, but Mark’s question has opened the floodgates. “The servers are fucked unless that bastard gives us the key. The workaround I configured last night won’t keep for more than 72 hours at this rate because the fucking malware is slowly degrading it,” he seethes, eyes fixed on the road ahead of them.

Mark dips his head briefly in acknowledgement. “They got the better of us.”

Renjun eyes him. “You’re not mad.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“I’m not worried,” Mark allows. “I don’t like it, but we’ll find a way around it or pressure Ten into giving up the key. As long as Kun isn’t worried, I won’t be either.”

Renjun doesn’t speak for a long time. “You trust him a lot.”

“For a while, he was all I had.” Mark smiles wryly. “My parents died when I was young, and so my brother raised me the best he could while also hacking for DedSec. If it weren’t for Johnny, I would’ve never graduated high school, let alone make it to university.” He sighs. “After they were killed, I… wasn’t in the best of places, and Kun was the one who dragged me out of that mental hell. I refused to listen to reason, until he put a gun to my head and told me that if I was going to waste away like this then I might as well go see Johnny so _he_ could beat my ass.”

Renjun looks suitably impressed. “Damn.”

“Yep,” Mark agrees. “Kun doesn’t get mad easily, but I was a little shit. He doesn’t agree with what we’re doing, you know, tangling directly with ctOS like this. Says Johnny wouldn’t want this life for me.”

Renjun hums absently. “He’d be a great asset.” But Mark is shaking his head already.

“This isn’t his fight anymore. He’s only getting involved with this because of WayV. Because of Ten.”

Renjun snorts. “I heard from Haechan,” he replies, noting the slight tightening of Mark’s expression at their teammate’s name. “Bad history there?”

Mark shrugs. “Kun is a good man. Ten isn’t. They haven’t figured out how to reconcile that sort of thing in all these years. Maybe they never will.”

“Well, what we do tonight definitely won’t help them at all,” Renjun quips, frowning again. “You really think this will work?”

“It’s as good an attempt as any,” Mark replies. “We have the intel that Ten is supplying some crime ring with hacked ATMs that skim off the top of anyone who accesses their bank accounts through them. If we target the people he’s profiting with, he might just want to wash his hands of us altogether.” He parks on the side of the road, jerking his chin at a battered establishment further down the block. “That diner. The machines are in the back.”

They’re close to the outskirts now, where the streets are littered with cigarette stubs and old wrappers, and Renjun finds comfort in the cold steel of the gun he brought pressed against his side. There is a small fleet of motorcycles parked in front, and more cars presumably in the small parking lot out back. Some of the bikes are unobtrusive, simple. Others show off koi decals gleaming across the fuel tanks. _Shibuya Diner_ , reads the faded sign across the top of the building, scratchy characters he doesn’t understand printed below the name.

“Japanese,” Renjun remarks.

“Yakuza,” Mark murmurs in disbelief. “Renjun, we can’t.”

“They’re a little far from home, aren’t they?” Renjun quips, but Mark tugs him back.

“No, come on, I’m not sure which syndicate is all the way here, but we can’t fuck with the yakuza.”

Renjun glares. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s the _yakuza_ ,” Mark emphasizes urgently. “Renjun, you don’t mess with them. Fuck, even Ten shouldn’t have cut a deal with them.”

Renjun hesitates before scowling. “Isn’t everything we do dangerous already? Besides, if Ten isn’t scared of them, I don’t see why I should be either.”

Mark grasps him by both shoulders, forcibly turning Renjun around to stare him in the eye. “Messing with a corporation is one thing,” he begins seriously, “but for the most part, they _are_ bound by the law. But organized crime? Renjun, it’s bad enough that the triads are here in Seoul, but the yakuza won’t just make you pay for going against them, they will _take what they’re owed_.”

Renjun scoffs, shrugging out of Mark’s grip. “And what, sneaking around under Umeni’s nose wasn’t as risky?” Mark staggers back. It’s a low blow, and Renjun almost regrets it from the stricken look on Mark’s face. Chenle was never meant to be in as much trouble as he was at Haum’s headquarters. They both know it.

“Look.” Renjun’s tone softens. “We just have to get in, blow the machines up, and get back out, same as always.” He steps in closer, cornering Mark in against the car, glancing up at the older man through his lashes. “Come on, Mark, don’t let Jeno’s explosives go to waste,” Renjun wheedles, the soft-spoken voice of a snake about to strike.

Mark is reluctantly amused despite himself. “You just want to piss Ten off.”

Renjun shrugs unrepentantly, stepping back again, turning to cross the street, Mark on his heels. “And what’s wrong with that? Bastard deserves it. Besides...” He trails off, slipping into the shadows of the alley next to the diner. Sure enough, the unassuming ATMs are carefully lined up in a corner of the worn-down parking lot. “Maybe,” he grunts, crouching down to hide behind the cars, “I feel a little guilty about it, too.”

Mark easily shadows his movements, gun out and eyes roaming the surrounding areas, but there’s really no one in sight. “Guilty? Why?”

_A bit strange, wouldn’t you think? That there are no guards for such precious cargo._

Renjun sighs, carefully sticking explosive charges on each machine. “Isn’t it at least a little bit my fault? That someone got past my code and now we’re all in danger because of it.”

Mark shrugs, eyes still trained on the diner. “By that logic, Chenle and I are at fault, too, because we checked your work. Done?”

Renjun nods, reaching for the detonator in his pocket before freezing as he feels cold metal press against his neck. “Mark,” he croaks, and the older man whirls around, freezing as he notices the figure standing behind Renjun.

“Hello there,” lilts a gentle voice, far too calm when staring into the barrel of Mark’s gun. “You must be DedSec, then?”

Mark stares at the sleepy-looking man with a switchblade pressed against Renjun’s neck. He’s got strong features, dim streetlight snagging on those prominent cheekbones, looking far too comfortable with his arm curled around Renjun. “Who…?” Neither man had noticed him appear.

“I thought something like this would happen tonight,” the stranger sighs forlornly, although his arm never wavers even as Renjun struggles to tug the knife away from his neck, gloved fingers unable to get a grip on the slippery blade. Shit, Mark curses in his head, watching Renjun’s chest heave as he breathes shallowly from the exertion. “Looks like Ten was wrong again, he really did think you all wouldn’t try to go after his business operations.”

Mark and Renjun both freeze. Then this man wasn’t with the yakuza; he was…

“Xiaojun. From WayV. Hmm, I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but I’m not supposed to play nice with DedSec,” he introduces himself, an apologetic tone in his voice, but there’s nothing remotely forgiving in his tight grip on Renjun. “Please, just hand the detonator over. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“How about you give me Renjun back first,” Mark growls, “and I won’t shoot you where you stand.”

Xiaojun sighs again. “I guess we’re at a standstill then. Look, just give me the thing and you can walk, I won’t even tell the Asano syndicate what you were trying.”

“Okay, okay,” Renjun relents hoarsely, widening his eyes meaningfully at Mark, since Xiaojun can’t see his expression. Renjun’s voice trembles, but the hands hidden in his pockets are steady. There’s a small blue flicker in his eye, the computer interface in his lens clearly hard at work. “Here.” He drops the detonator on the ground, and as soon as Xiaojun’s arm loosens the slightest, Renjun kicks the detonator off the curb, ducking the recoil of Xiaojun’s knife and snatching Mark’s wrist. “Run!”

“Wh—”

“Hurry!”

They don’t bother hiding their presence anymore, boots thudding loudly against the pavement before Renjun all but throws Mark into the car, vaulting across the hood to slide into the passenger side. No one has come chasing after them yet, but that luck won’t hold for long. “Go!”

Mark automatically follows Renjun’s panicky orders, adrenaline racing through his veins even though he’s not sure why. The engine revs loudly as they swerve away from the diner. “Renjun, wh—” _Boom._

The car jolts beneath their feet with the force of the explosion behind them. In the rearview mirror, Mark watches a tower of flames arc up and engulf the building adjacent to the small diner. “Renjun, what the _fuck_ was in those charges?”

A shaky laugh comes from the man next to him. “No idea, ask Jeno.”

Mark glances at him, almost crashing the car when he notices Renjun holding wet fingertips up in front of his face. As if the rest of his senses have suddenly decided to work double time, the tang of copper invades his nostrils. “Are you bleeding?” Mark yelps, noticing the glassy look in Renjun’s eye.

“I’m fine,” Renjun replies breathily, rubbing his sticky fingertips together in slight fascination. They turn a corner, and the streetlights gleam over his face for only a moment, but it’s enough to see a bloody smear across the side of his neck. “It doesn’t even hurt.” He must have gotten injured when he pulled away from Xiaojun.

“You’re in shock,” Mark answers tersely, knuckles white around the steering wheel. “We need to stop the bleeding, at least.” Luckily, the gash looked rather shallow, but the amount of red on Renjun’s shirt was highly concerning. He haphazardly guides the Audi into a narrow one-way street, rumbling to a stop as he leans over into Renjun’s seat to rummage through the glove compartment.

“I’m fine!” Renjun protests again, clarity slowly returning to his eyes, one hand still cupped over his neck. “Can we at least get back to base first?”

Mark doesn’t even deign to answer, digging out a small first aid kit amidst the mess of papers. “Let me see your neck, Renjun.”

Despite his grumbling, Renjun reluctantly lets Mark run an alcohol wipe carefully down the side of his neck as he towels his own hands off. “Ow!” He suddenly hisses, jerking away as Mark accidentally grazes the edge of the cut itself.

“Sorry,” Mark apologizes, ripping open another wipe packet with his teeth. “Hold still! I thought you said it didn’t hurt?”

Renjun scowls, retort ready at his lips before he freezes. “M-mark.”

The older man steadfastly avoids his gaze, but Renjun has a perfect view of how red his ears are turning as Mark kneels fully over him, a solid weight in Renjun’s lap. “Maybe if you stopped fucking _moving_ like I asked,” Mark grumbles, but there’s no heat in his voice, and his hands remain gentle on Renjun’s neck. Now that most of the red is gone, minus the dark stains on Renjun’s collar, the shallow cut itself doesn’t look that bad.

“How did you figure out what to do so fast?” Mark finally breaks the tense silence.

Renjun shrugs, wincing slightly as the movement tugs at his skin. “Dunno. I figured I’d probably need one hell of a distraction to get away from him, and I was technically already holding onto one. Just had to program it so it wouldn’t go off _immediately_.”

Mark carefully bandages it as Renjun pointedly stares out the window, hands clenched into fists at his side. It’s… too intimate like this. No one’s been this physically close to him in a long, long time, and it’s affecting him even though it shouldn’t.

“Well, it was good thinking.” Mark’s voice breaks him out of his taboo thoughts. “Terrible execution though,” Mark adds sternly, huffing as he leans back against the glovebox. Beyond the bloody shirt and Renjun’s pallor, he doesn’t look like he’s in too much trouble at the moment. They’ll have Kun check over him again back at base.

Mark should climb back into his own seat, but he takes a minute longer to admire Renjun’s profile. There’s little to no ferocity in that expression anymore, none of the stormy anger present from earlier. To be honest, he might have knowledge of Renjun’s entire background, everything that could be found on paper, but the other man still acts in ways that constantly surprise him. Different from Jaemin, who likes to stir shit up for entertainment, different from Haechan, who plain doesn’t think before doing anything, Renjun has motives. Mark just has no idea what they are.

“You know, I’m pretty sure this is the street we met on.” Renjun’s soft murmur brings Mark back from the recesses of his mind.

“Yeah?” Mark remembers that night well, how stunning Renjun was in his all-encompassing fury. For a moment, he feared he had stepped in far too late, that the quivering man on the ground was already as good as dead.

“Yeah,” Renjun replies. “You know, sometimes I wonder what I’d be like today if I hadn’t let him go.”

“You wouldn’t have killed him,” Mark says firmly.

Renjun chuckles mirthlessly. “Oh, but I think I would have, even after you reminded me of his innocence in the larger state of things. You know exactly what he took from me, you probably have some idea of my capacity to kill. I _did_ look up Ten’s track record, you know.”

Mark blinks at the non sequitur. “What do you mean?”

Renjun finally turns his head to look back at the man straddling his knees. “If you hadn’t invited me to DedSec, I probably would’ve been perfectly at home with WayV.” Mark can’t think of moving, blood running cold at the finality of his statement. Does Renjun...

“Is this your way of telling me you’re switching sides?” Mark chokes out, forced lightheartedness falling flat. His entire body tenses, preparing for a fight. DedSec doesn’t need another betrayal.

_Another?_

Renjun snorts at his obvious discomfort. “No, dumbass, this is me telling you that you’re probably the only reason someone didn’t die that night.” There’s a charge in the air as Renjun firmly holds his gaze, not that Mark could look away if he wanted to. “Take responsibility for the integrity you were so sure I had. I’m choosing to believe in your cause, and that means you need to believe in me, too. You may be my trigger lock, but never forget that lock or no lock, I am still a weapon. I am still capable of things the others couldn’t possibly stomach. It’s something you should be taking advantage of. I am no child, Mark Lee.”

“My goals are as ambitious as your own, and they will be achieved with or without you.”

Mark bristles at that last statement, leaning forward in anger. “Is this your way of telling me that we could be doing more? Because believe me, I kn—”

“You’re the last person I’d blame for something like that,” Renjun interrupts. “It was just a reminder, not a threat. That I don’t mind if you use me. In a way, I benefit, too.”

Mark shakily exhales a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Oh, what a weighty thing Renjun’s allegiance is going to be. “Then I swear I won’t misplace your trust in me.”

“Won’t you?” Renjun challenges, eyes glittering in the dim light. His face is so close to Mark’s own now, both of them leaning in with the gravitational pull of the atmosphere around them. “I’ve already been warned away from you,” he whispers.

Mark remembers the business card the younger man had shown him all those weeks ago, the sinister thrill that had dripped down his spine that _someone knew_. He, he can’t— Fuck, he needs to distract the other man from that line of thought, but he’s never been good at lying. “You won’t listen to them,” he breathes out in the minimal space between their lips, nose to nose with Renjun.

“Doesn’t mean they’re actually wr—” Renjun’s quip is cut off by warm lips pressed against his own, and he finally gives in to run his hands up Mark’s sides, clutching tightly at his shirt as Mark gently cradles the back of his head the best he can in such a cramped space, deepening the kiss and parting Renjun’s lips with his tongue, licking hotly into Renjun’s mouth like he plans on devouring him whole.

Any sound Renjun can make is swallowed into Mark’s mouth, every exhale leaving him with less and less oxygen until Renjun breaks off, panting, Mark tipping his head up oh so slightly to nip gently at Renjun’s chin, the faint taste of copper-dried blood at the back of his teeth. Renjun is numb with how good it feels, and it takes all his self-control to not drag Mark back to his mouth by his hair.

Renjun’s eyes slide closed as he finally regains enough control over his body to push Mark away for good this time, but his breathing is still shaky when he speaks again. “O-okay, you’ve made your point. I won’t ask again.”

Mark isn’t unaffected either, a predatory look in his eyes that fades with every blink until he seems to come back to himself. The ferocity of the kiss fades completely, replaced with an embarrassed sheepishness. “Uh.”

“This never happened,” Renjun states firmly, although he makes no move to fix his disheveled hair.

Mark stares at his swollen lips, a mirror of his own. “Agreed.”

“Right, now can you—”

“Yeah, let me just, um.”

“Oh, sorry.”

[15 minutes later, in the hackerspace…]

Mark glares at what’s left of the team in their living room. “Haechan is _where_?”

[An hour ago, somewhere downtown…]

Haechan sighs, staring up at the exterior of the same club Kun had taken him to last night. It’s a pretentious establishment, for a nightclub, the kind he would’ve regularly gone to as Donghyuck, with people who he hated but were “class-appropriate”, whatever the hell that meant. He glances down at his phone. Better send another text, just to be sure.

 _You ready?_ He types out.

Who did Haechan text?

[Chenle.]

[Jaemin.]

**[Jeno.]**

[Jisung.]


	25. Hacker War, Part V

It doesn’t take long for Ten to stalk out of the club, sleeves rolled up and riled like a panther on the hunt. He makes a beeline for Haechan as soon as he catches sight of him. “What,” the older man spits with such vitriol that Haechan takes an unbidden step backwards, “have you done?”

Haechan lets his eyes curl into arches in lieu of a derisive smile. “Now what could you possibly be talking about?”

Ten snarls. “Don’t be stupid, I just got a call about the machines I lent to the Asano syndicate, you stupid fucking septic tank.”

Haechan spreads his arms out, like a magician who had nothing to hide. “Please, do curb that charm of yours. So I’m thinking… we’re not going to do that vid thing.”

The bartender glares. “You know what? Do whatever. I don’t give two shits. My lock’s still on your server, as we both damn well know, and you can get the decryption key over my dead body.” Ten turns to leave, but Haechan catches him by the arm. “Oh, what else do you shitstains want?”

Haechan stares him intently in the eye. “Over your dead body? If that’s what it takes.”

Ten jerks his hand back, away from the phone Haechan had pulled out. “Oi, what kind of fucking noob do you think I am?” The spiky tattoo that covers his RFID implant shines dimly into the night as he cackles. “And what kind of moron are you for getting caught?”

Haechan sighs in disappointment, hands raised as he backs up a step. “Hey, it was worth a try.”

Ten snorts, rolling his sleeves back down so Haechan can’t scan his tattoo. “I’ve always hated you fucks. And you know why? The propaganda vids, the graffiti, the anti-whatever, do-gooder bullshit. You assholes take yourselves so fucking seriously and all it does is get you killed.” Bitterness permeates his voice as he turns again to leave, and Haechan can’t do anything to stop him.

Nor would he want to, considering the other man might actually kill him at this point.

Instead, Haechan turns around and walks away from the club, one hand reaching up to tap his earpiece. He peers up towards a tall building on the opposite side of the street, where Jeno is sitting barely visible with a scope.

“Did you get it?”

“Yep,” Jeno’s voice crackles into his ear promptly. “A clean shot, and he never noticed.”

“Getting a ping on the WayV bunker now,” Chenle replies cheerfully from back at base. “Now get moving before Mark comes back and tries to stop you.”

Haechan scoffs, looking around for a good vehicle to hijack. “Like he could.” His eyes land on a sweet little red coupe, and he feels a genuine smile stretch across his face. “There we go.”

[Back to the present...]

“So let me get this straight,” Mark deadpans, although only Jisung is willing to look him in the eye. “Haechan is on his way, alone, to WayV’s bunker to steal the decryption key. After antagonizing Ten and possibly clueing him in to your plans. With no backup. When we have no idea what’s waiting for him there.”

“He said he’d be fine,” Jaemin asserts staunchly, although the tense lock of his jaw seems to claim otherwise. Jeno, beside him, carefully reassembles his scope again before setting it back inside his case.

“Aw, Markie,” coos a staticky voice from Chenle’s ever-present laptop. “Keep it up and I’ll start to think that you _do_ care.”

Mark aggressively taps his own earpiece. “Why the _hell_ are you taking such an unnecessary risk? You could get yourself killed!”

Haechan scoffs, making everyone wince at the sudden storm of white noise. “Please, I’m saving our entire damn operation. Renjun’s lock isn’t going to last another day: Ten knows what we tried to do. I’m your only hope right now, so the least you can do is not fucking yell while I get shot at or something.”

Mark glares at the far wall. “Keep the fucking line open. If you go dark at any point, I’m going to kill you myself.”

Back at the site of the bunker, Haechan makes a face as he parks the car before smugly muting Mark’s line. “Chenle,” he calls out instead. “I highly doubt I’m just going to be able to walk through the front door, what’s plan B?” The facility is a clunky looking block of concrete, sitting inconspicuously on the side of a hill outside the city proper, and Haechan doubts he’s going to be able to walk up without tripping six different kinds of alarms.

Chenle ignores his question. “You know all of us are in the same room right now, right? Mark’s scowling right now. Anyways, there should be an old exhaust duct somewhere…”

“Got it.” Haechan slides a graffitied manhole cover aside, revealing a dark tunnel that drops into the bunker underneath it. He makes another face. He’s never been a fan of cramped spaces. Luckily, there’s no one around at this time of night, and the rest of his team is back at the base, so he feels comfortable taking his mask off, inhaling deeply. It’s been so long since he’s unmasked, even wearing the damn thing to sleep in case one of the others breaks into his room. The cool nighttime air feels good on his face, but he can’t take too long to enjoy it. Time’s a-ticking.

Haechan eases himself into the duct. Luckily, it’s not a far drop to the floor of the bunker, the place clearly having been designed for efficiency and not comfort. The room is splattered floor to ceiling with graffitied words in all colors of the rainbow, the images smeared over each other until no single work is noticeable amidst the sea of disorder. In the center of the bunker stands a single console system, propped up on empty barrels, six monitors glaring neon pink in standby mode. Junk parts and other objects are cluttered in the corners, but Haechan doesn’t have time to inspect them before a voice sounds. “Hey, you’re not supposed t—”

Haechan immediately pulls his gun out to aim in the direction of the speaker. There’s a young man staring back at him from the other side of the bunker, blond streaks running through his hair and a potato chip halfway to his lips. It falls to the ground as he puts his hands up, eyes widening as he takes in Haechan’s face. His uncovered face. Oh no. “Holy shit, aren’t you—”

“Get out,” Haechan cuts him off hoarsely, pulling his mask back up over his face. It’s stifling, but no more so than the situation he’s in. “Before you and I both regret it.”

“Haechan, what’s going on?” Renjun’s muted voice crackles over the comms, but he ignores it in favor of taking in the other man’s face. If he tells anyone…

“Okay, okay!” The kid backs up, stumbling over the raised edge near the door. “Like, I didn’t see anything, I swear!” He runs out the door, and Haechan lets his arm fall back to his side, inhaling shakily.

He’ll find him later.

For now, Haechan approaches the monitor, swiping a blue holographic keyboard into existence as he taps into WayV’s systems. Almost immediately, an alarm sounds, caterwauling through the bunker. Haechan steps back, wincing as he clamps both hands over his ears. “Get your hands off my shit!” Ten’s voice booms from the speakers.

Despite the noise, Haechan smirks. “Hey there again, Ten,” he drawls, pulling the keyboard back to hover in front of him again. “How’s it feel getting your shit fucked up twice in one night?”

Ten’s face appears scowling on every monitor at the console and more hanging on the walls. “Think you’re fucking smart? These protocols were my failsafe if things went sideways with the syndicate but…” The image smirks suddenly as a countdown timer appears in the corner of every screen. “Yeah, this will work, too. Can’t have my hard drive getting seized by undesirables, after all.”

Despite the five minutes he has left, Haechan is calm.

“Was that Ten?” Comes Jeno’s voice through the comms.

“Yep,” Haechan replies cheerfully. “He’s rigged the place to blow.”

“What?” Mark snaps, having overridden Haechan’s mute. Damn, and he thought it would’ve taken the other longer.

“What are we looking at?” Jaemin, at the very least, is calm. Haechan begins walking the perimeter of the room, squinting as he looks at the digitized overlay through his phone, streaming the camera feed back to the rest of the team.

“Two. No. Three.”

“It looks like… Shit…”

“Maybe four,” Jisung interjects. “They don’t seem connected though, so I don’t think the order matters.”

“How many nodes?” Chenle sounds eager.

“Haechan, just get out of there,” Mark orders, an edge to his voice.

“No,” Haechan refuses, flicking through lines of code like his life depends on it. Which, well, it kind of did. “We need that decryption key.”

“Not at the cost of your life!” Mark’s voice cracks on the last word.

“Shut it, Markie,” Haechan replies absently, a bead of sweat trickling down his neck. “I need to concentrate.” One node down, but there’s no time to waste. “Chenle, can you check—”

“On it already.”

“Are the rest of you really going to let him keep doing this?” Mark demands of the others, but Haechan can still hear him, and he grits his teeth in irritation. The timer flashes red ominously in the background.

“Mark,” Haechan bites out, snapping his keyboard in two and letting the halves flicker under his deft hands as he squints at the walls above him. Where’s that cable… Ah.. “Shut the fuck up. We both know it wouldn’t be much of a loss if I didn’t get out of here anyway, so at least let me get the damn key.”

The following silence deafens. Not that Haechan has the time to care. Two minutes, two nodes.

“You can’t—” Mark rasps, his voice giving out. “That’s not true,” he tries again. The others don’t say a word, although code from Renjun continues feeding in through Haechan’s computerized lens.

“Please. Don’t do me the disrespect of pretending you don’t hate me.” Haechan exhales quietly, glancing at the stopped clock, not that anyone’s realized it yet, too focused on the verbal exchange.

Forty seconds. Not bad.

“I don’t hate you,” Mark replies in a rush, but Haechan feels no satisfaction at the desperation tinting his voice, smiling bleakly.

“Well, that’s good to know,” Haechan responds, sliding down against the wall to slump on the floor, elbows on his knees and face tucked into his chest. Thirty seconds. “But you don’t have to pretend that I’m more important than the key right now.”

“Haechan?” It’s Chenle this time, sounding panicked. “Why did the feed stop from your end? What happened? Please—”

“Do _not_ die on me, Haechan,” Mark orders shakily. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

“You’re a good man, Mark,” Haechan interrupts, making a face at how formal his own tone is. He needs to push him a little more, still… “But if Ten destroys all the data we’ve collected, it’ll ruin DedSec and all of our combined efforts thus far. Good thing I’m bad at following orders, huh?”

“ _No one is dying on my watch again, especially not you!_ ” Mark roars, and Haechan freezes, hands falling limply to his sides. Of all the things to hear him say.

_Again…?_

Right on time, the timer dings cheerfully, signaling that Haechan’s five minutes are up. They all wait with bated breath, but nothing happens.

“Wait, did the systems fail?” Chenle wonders aloud.

Haechan smiles grimly, snapping the cables as he gets back to his feet and unplugs the hard drive from WayV’s systems. No one had to know that he had overridden Ten’s controls long before the timer went off. “Guess so. See you back at base.”

He’ll figure out how to process Mark’s slip of the tongue later.

* * *

Ten doesn’t bother turning around as the elevator dings behind him, focused on topping up the shot glass in front of him. There’s only one person it can be, anyway. “Come to brag?”

“It’s like you don’t know me at all,” Kun calls wryly as he settles into one of the booths in the VIP lounge. He smiles as Ten settles disdainfully onto the leather seat next to him, ice clinking gently in his glass. He doesn’t offer the other man a drink. Kun doesn’t ask for one.

Ten finally swallows enough bourbon to weigh his pride down. “Well, your brats got the better of me.” He frowns, although it’s nowhere near as fierce as his temper in public. Kun had always inadvertently softened him. He hates it.

Kun watches him neutrally, even that familiar face slightly tempered by time. Ten has always been beautiful, but there’s an edge to him that grows steelier every time Kun encounters him. “There is a saying,” he begins carefully as Ten sets his empty glass down. “A sword cannot last without a whetstone and shield. You’ve gone too long without either.” His words are heavy with implication, although the other seems opposed to catching on.

“ _This_ is the conversation you want to have tonight?” Ten replies derisively, glancing at Kun, who seems unbothered by his tone. “And whose fault is it that I was _abandoned_ by both in one fell swoop?”

“I hadn’t known how devastated you were,” Kun replies serenely. “You were always good at hiding things from me, especially if they involved Johnny. Back then, you didn’t need me. You wanted me. There is a difference, and I chose the option safer for my own well-being. You of all people can’t fault me for that.”

Ten scoffs. “No, I suppose I can’t, not when I’ve been pushing you to do something like that for so long now.” His head lolls back against the booth as he squints up into the light of the chandelier. “Fuck, I hate you so much.”

Kun smiles sadly. “No, you don’t. And I’m sorry for it.”

“Then why are you here now?”

Kun slowly reaches forward for the shot glass, turning it over in his hands so the crystal flashes rainbow shards everywhere. “Would you really have killed Haechan tonight?” He asks instead, a question for a question.

“Yes,” Ten replies promptly. “You assured me so much that the brats were capable. I wasn’t about to go easy on them for anything.”

“Besides,” he straightens his posture, leaning into Kun’s space, “it’s no less than what you asked from me.”

Kun doesn’t move away, lost in thought, allowing Ten to hook an arm around his waist and his chin over his shoulder. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always,” Ten croons mockingly, although there’s no more bite to his words. “But they exceeded any expectation I had of them, even ruining the Asano operations.” He makes a face, not that Kun can see. “I’ll have to give Yuta an explanation tomorrow, ugh. But regardless, they’re ready, for whatever it is that’s coming.”

Kun stills, shoulders hunched forward by residual grief. “That’s what Johnny thought, too.”

Kun feels more than sees Ten’s shrug, although he knows the death of Ten’s… friend? Rival? Cuts no less deep into his thoughts. “You quit the game a long time ago, Qian Kun. There is nothing more you can do for him.” Ten’s voice is soft, almost sad. “Let the remaining players have a turn.”

Kun sighs, leaning back into Ten’s embrace. _Mark Lee_ , he muses, _it’s your move._


	26. Robot Wars, Part I

“Found something in the data dump,” Renjun reports, setting a hard drive down on the coffee table after all of them have settled in the living room. He doesn’t look Mark in the eyes as he crosses the room to sit beside Jaemin.

Chenle hooks it up to his laptop as Jisung quickly moves a mug away from his elbow. “How bad?”

“Okay, well, we were looking through the companies purchasing user streams from Haum, and besides health insurance, there were a few names that stood out. HSBC is a vertically-integrated construction company that has robotic patents that stretch to many industries beyond your typical engineering fields, and they actually manufactured Haum’s newest security tech, which was probably why they conspired with Haum, but there’s something a little scarier that we found.”

Renjun inhales shakily before continuing. “Let’s just say that all the taxes, and the government grants, and the ‘research’ programs—and you’ll notice the quotation marks there—none of it adds up, okay? They’re collaborating with the government on something they call ‘the 10-year plan’—again, quotation marks—which is supposed to improve ctOS security.”

Chenle breathes in sharply as he pulls up the files Renjun was referring to, documents upon documents referring to coded schematics. “Then why are they filing patents on _military tech_?”

“Because ctOS is going the way of all control systems,” Mark responds wearily. “HSBC is a huge company on its own, but it’s one in a handful of companies run by a conglomerate holding group. Most people don’t know about the connection, because HSBC is such a well-known moniker on its own, but it’s owned by—”

“—ERGO,” Haechan interrupts.

Mark dips his head briefly in acknowledgement. “Yes, ERGO, the e-commerce giant. Which is why HSBC is going to be tough to hit. There’s no way we’re going to just skip through their front door and steal all their dirty secrets when even the state buys biometric locks from HSBC. That’s the level of security we’re dealing with here.”

Haechan suddenly leans forward. “Don’t tell me you’re chickening out, Mark.”

Mark frowns. “Of course not, but I don’t think you realize exactly how bad it’s going to get.”

Jisung shrugs. “Palm readers? That’s easy. We just need to find a hand. I bet I can get one no problem.”

“Hey, that’s your plan?” Jaemin interjects uncomfortably. “Cut somebody’s hand off?”

“What? It works.”

Mark shakes his head, cutting off the discussion. “Not here. There are heart rate monitors and infrared scans that check for blood flow. No blood flow, no unlock, no entrance.”

Haechan sighs irritably. “Okay, fine, then we, we grab someone… alive… and we get them to open it for us.”

“Not to play devil’s advocate,” Renjun begins slowly, “but the heart rate monitor will flag if they’re nervous.”

“Okay, then we inject someone with a sedative to bring down their heart ra—”

“Why don’t we just build an EMP bomb?” The quiet suggestion comes from Jeno, who has been watching the heated discussion. Everyone turns to look at him, and he shrugs. “Just hit the right hardware, fry the database, and the doors reset to the default codes.”

Renjun considers the idea. “Then all we’ll need is a default. Huh. That could work.”

“And how, pray tell, are we supposed to get the bomb _into_ the building?” But Jeno seems prepared for that question, too.

“The Haum security bot,” he answers promptly, jerking his head at the silent tech in the corner of the room. “HSBC still uses the 1.0 bots as security, and every time one of these breaks down, they pick them up from a service depot. Hide the bomb in the bot, wheel it in, they’ll never notice.”

Mark looks impressed. “That’s good. _Very_ good.”

Jeno nods. “I worked there. Before they found out I was a Zero.” He knits his fingers together under the scrutiny of the room. “I was good with tech, so they said they could still give me work at their construction sites even after they let me go.”

“That fire at the south depot a few years ago, the one that destroyed the entire facility. That was you, wasn’t it?” Chenle asks with no small amount of glee.

“Can’t say they didn’t deserve it.”

“Okay, so, to recap: we’re **sending the Haum bot to one of the service facilities to fix it up with an EMP bomb**.”

“I’m going,” Jeno interrupts. “We don’t have the parts I need here, but I’ll be able to build the bomb on-site. I remember where everything is.”

Mark nods affirmatively. “Okay, so someone will have to go with him. Next, after the bot gets shipped back to HSBC’s headquarters, someone needs to camp out at one of the warehouses to **get the default codes**.”

“And then after the bomb goes off, two of you need to **break into HSBC** using those defaults and figure out what they’re hiding,” Renjun finishes for him. “So we’re going to be busy, basically.”

Jaemin smiles faintly. “Best get to work, then.”

Who will accompany Jeno to the service depot?

[Haechan.]

[Jaemin.]

**[Jisung.]**

[Mark.]

Who will get the default codes? Note: this person will not be available to break into HSBC.

**[Haechan.]**

[Jisung.]

[Mark.]

[Renjun.]

Next time, who…

[Haechan.]

**[Jaemin.]**

[Mark.]

...will interact with who?

[Chenle.]

[Jeno.]

**[Jisung.]**

* * *

After the meeting, Renjun makes his move. He’s lucky Mark seemed distracted by something, leaving his phone on the counter, and it only takes a few seconds for Renjun to link it to his own interface and generate a copy of all the data on his phone. He hadn’t lied to Mark when he’d said that they weren’t going to talk about the kiss, but there was someone else who deserved an explanation.

Lee Donghyuck.

Mark rarely spoke of his mysterious boyfriend, but Renjun was relatively certain the other man wouldn’t approve of Mark’s actions, regardless of his intentions. Renjun was many things, but he wasn’t about to be a homewrecker, too. It was obvious that Mark had only kissed him to hide something, which he didn’t particularly about, at least until it started affecting his own plans, but he did generally prefer to have a clear conscience. Renjun quickly hurries back to his own room, spoofing a call to Donghyuck from Mark’s number and waiting impatiently for the other man to pick up.

The phone rings twice, before a soft-spoken voice picks up. “Mark? Is something wrong?”

Renjun freezes in his tracks. The voice sounds familiar, melodic and gentle, but he can’t remember _where_ he’s heard it before.

“Hello?” The other man repeats. “Mark, are you there?”

Renjun coughs. “Uh, yeah, sorry, this isn’t Mark. This is Renjun, a, um, business associate of his?”

There’s a long pause before the other man speaks again, much more guarded this time. “Hello, Renjun-ssi. Is something wrong with Mark at the moment?” The more he speaks, the more Renjun realizes that he’s heard this voice before, although he’s not sure where…

“Yeah, uh, I just wanted to let you know that… okay look, there’s no easy way to say this, but Mark kissed me. A little while ago. I doubt there were any intentions behind it, but I know you two are together, and I just thought you should know. Um, sorry.”

Another long pause. “I’m sorry, I’m not at home at the moment, could we discuss this at a later date?” Donghyuck’s voice is notably colder now, shakier too, but something about his statement… Home. _Haum_. _Holy fuck._ The phone falls from his hand as he realizes where he’s heard that voice before.

“Hello? Renjun-ssi? Are you there?” Comes Donghyuck’s voice again, but Renjun isn’t around to hear it. He’s already run out of his bedroom and down the hall.

Haechan’s door is closed. It always is, but for once, Renjun doesn’t particularly feel like respecting his privacy. He flings the door wide open, bursting into the room, and sure enough, there’s an unfamiliar face staring shocked back at him, mask and voice modulator still hanging around his neck.

Renjun leans back against the door as it clicks shut again, eyes roving across his face. He has soft features, rounded nose and full lips such a contrast to his harshly modified voice, and although Renjun has never seen him before, he _knows_ he’s right. “Haechan. Lee Donghyuck. It was you.”

The man before him swears, tugging his mask back up his face, although it’s far too late now. “How the fuck—”

“I should be asking _you_ that,” Renjun retorts, although he’s not mad at all, more… _elated_ from being able to put the pieces together, solve a puzzle that he didn’t know was within his grasp. “Why the _fuck_ are you hiding your own identity from your boyfriend? And I’ve already seen your face, you don’t need to wear that around me.”

Donghyuck tugs the fabric down, indignant. “Believe me, I have my reasons. You wanna tell me why you kissed Mark?”

“Whoa,” Renjun protests, hands raised in surrender, but Donghyuck doesn’t look like he’s going to kill him, so he sits gingerly on the edge of the bed next to the other man. “He kissed _me_ , he was trying to stop me from asking questions about something, I’m not going to be a kept man.”

Donghyuck suddenly looks more interested in the rest of his statement. “Wait, he was trying to distract you? What were you two talking about?”

Renjun stares at him in disbelief. “Dude, I just told you your boyfriend kissed me.”

Donghyuck waves a hand impatiently. “Yeah, but this is more important, I swear.” He stares at Renjun intently, leaning in closer. “Besides, it didn’t mean anything, right? Don’t you have some weird thing going on with Jaemin right now anyway?”

Renjun flushes at the embarrassment of having to _remember_ what happened right in front of Donghyuck, choosing to disregard that last statement about Jaemin. “I mean, yeah, of course it didn’t mean shit, I, like, respect your relationship or whatever even if _you_ clearly don’t right n—” He’s cut off as a pair of soft lips smash clumsily into his own, Donghyuck pulling back a second later before Renjun can scream. “What the _fuck_?”

Donghyuck winces, thumbing over his bleeding lip. “Did you have to bite me? And also, that meant nothing, too, so we’re even, and now you can _tell me what Mark said_.”

Renjun furiously wipes at his own mouth. “What the fuck is wrong with both of you? Like, is this some weird fetish because I swear to god, I refuse, I am not involved, I—”

“Okay, look, stop talking about it,” Donghyuck interrupts desperately, expression slightly unhinged. “No, I don’t like it, but I care just a little bit less that Mark did that than if he’s _trying to kill me_.”

Well, if there was anything to stop Renjun in his tracks, it would’ve been that statement. For a moment, he doesn’t think he heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”

Donghyuck rubs one hand over his face. “Okay, look, what company does Mark have a vendetta against?”

“ERGO,” Renjun replies promptly.

“And who owns the company?”

Renjun makes a face. “Didn’t their CEO die like a while back, so now his brother owns the company? Nepotism, disgusting.” Haechan gestures for Renjun to go on. “Okay, um, but there was some clause in his will that his son inherited most of the company shares, oh wait…”

Donghyuck smiles bleakly. “Yep. You’re looking at him.”

Renjun continues staring at him. “You.”

“Yeah.” Donghyuck looks down, picking at a stray thread in his pants. “I didn’t find out that Mark was connected to DedSec until a few months ago, and then I just… started questioning everything, you know? And he’s hiding something _big_ , too, but I’ve only found hints here and there of something, so I just...” He sighs, and Renjun watches the last of his bravado slip away. “I don’t know what to do,” he finishes quietly. “He hid such a huge part of his past from me, and I just want him to know it _doesn’t matter to me_ , but there’s so much I don’t know yet, like what he wants from me.”

Renjun racks his memories of that night, and realizes that he’s long since come to the same conclusion as Donghyuck. “You think he’s hiding something _big_. And so you can’t trust him. Wait, hold on, are you pulling a con against your own _company_?” He shifts away from Donghyuck, body braced for a fight.

Donghyuck snorts. “Are you kidding me? I never wanted to inherit the damn thing. But Father _insisted_ , and honestly, at least I can still curb my aunt and uncle _somewhat_ , even if I have little to no interest in actually running ERGO.” He looks down at his own hands, tugging at his gloves. “I’ve seen them pull strings and take advantage of other people as easy as they can breathe, and shit like that will never change because the people at the bottom think they can’t change it. I used to be a fan of DedSec, you know. It’s why I learned to hack in the first place. But, well… Do you know how DedSec got exposed last time?”

Renjun shakes his head, relaxing. “No, I was in China at the time.”

“I pulled a few strings of my own, dug a little deeper beneath the public information. There were rumors that the government scheduled the raid on information from a mole within DedSec. That someone had betrayed them from the inside. It’s the only way such a secretive organization could’ve ever fallen so quickly and completely.”

Renjun stiffens again. “You think it’s…”

But Donghyuck shakes his head furiously. “No way it’s him. His own _brother_ was the leader, Mark’s not capable of something like that.”

“But you still suspect him of something.”

“I do,” Donghyuck concedes sadly. “He’s usually so warm to me, to see him like this is…” He inhales shakily.

Renjun hums absently, deep in thought. “So where do we go from here?”

Donghyuck shudders before he regains his composure, tugging the mask back over his face, moment of weakness over. “We hit HSBC as planned,” he replies firmly. “I hate the idea of ctOS just as much as you do, and that hasn’t changed at all. Can I count on you to at least keep my secret from Mark?”

Renjun shrugs, standing up. It’s no skin off his nose. “Yeah.” He claps a hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder. “You know, Mark really does care for you, despite what you may think.”

Donghyuck stares steadily up at him as he tugs his hood back over his head, until once again nothing is visible but his eyes. “The Mark Lee I know is a good man, one who would go to the ends of the earth for his loved ones. I’m just beginning to think that maybe that Mark Lee was never a reality at all.”


	27. Robot Wars, Part II

Jisung frowns when he feels a certain pink-haired actor plop down on the couch next to him. “I refuse.”

“Oh come on, I didn’t even ask anything yet,” Jaemin whines, and Jisung knows without turning that the older man is pouting something fierce.

“You’re just going to ask me to ask Chenle to do another data crawl, and we’ve already sent you everything we had on Mark.” Really, they weren’t even supposed to be looking through the file transfer as thoroughly as they had, but considering both Haechan and Jaemin were both in DedSec now, Jisung had some personal concern over whatever the hell was going on, client confidentiality be damned.

“Actually, I wasn’t.” Jaemin’s tone is remarkably measured, which is the only reason Jisung even begins to consider humoring him. “I was going to ask how you were doing. After what happened at Haum, I mean.”

Jisung glances at him, but the other just stares back neutrally. Jisung sighs before relenting. “I’m fine. Really. You don’t need to keep asking.”

Jaemin tilts his head, considering. “Jisung, I lie as a profession, and believe me when I say you’re as unbelievable right now as they come.” He softens when he notices the defensive set of Jisung’s shoulders, gently reaching forward to rub a soothing hand over his arm. “Look, I didn’t mean to, and the others won’t say anything about it, but we did overhear you and Chenle in the comms. On Haum’s rooftop.”

He smiles wryly. “Okay, Renjun and Haechan weren’t paying attention while trying to sort the data, but I definitely did. I just wanted to make sure you were… okay. It sounded bad enough from here.”

Jisung inhales shakily. “It was. It was… that man had him by the throat.”

Jaemin squeezes his shoulder once, staying silent as he waits for Jisung to compose himself.

“I knew Chenle could take care of himself, and we’ve definitely been in worse situations, but… for a split second, I forgot. And usually it’s me getting threatened, Chenle doesn’t really come to negotiations with me for anything, I just thought…”

“You thought you were going to lose him,” Jaemin finishes for him quietly.

Jisung nods, unable to speak as he gulps for air. When he brings his hand up to rub his nose, his cheeks are wet. He’s crying. Why is he crying? “It just makes me want to pack him in cotton so he can never get hurt again,” Jisung explains hoarsely. “Even if he hates it. Even if he hates me for it.”

Jaemin hums in understanding. “But Jisung… you know you’re allowed to seek him out for comfort. He’s able to protect you, too.”

Jisung shakes his head furiously, trying to sweep away his thoughts. “No, I know, but… Just for one moment, it was terrible. And it won’t be the last time either, although I’ve long since come to terms with our kind of lifestyle. Still, it’s my worst nightmare every single time.”

Jaemin smiles sadly. “I can’t say I get it, but if you need someone to talk to, you know you have more than just Chenle now, right? I can’t speak for the others, but I like to think we’ve all gotten a little closer. If you need someone to just listen, I’ll be here.”

Jisung nods quietly, and although Jaemin knows Jisung won’t be seeking him out anytime soon, well, at least the option is there. “Thanks… hyung.”

* * *

Arriving at the HSBC service depot is in many ways like coming home, Jeno muses, toeing at the kickstand of his motorcycle and loping up the driveway like he belongs here. Indeed, long ago, he did. The place hasn’t changed much since his unfortunate firing. Well, unfortunate for everyone else, as he’d torched its sister facility down one night in a fit of pique.

What? He wasn’t stupid enough to get caught for destroying his _own_ prior workplace.

The cloying scent of machinery hangs heavily in the air as Jeno ambles forward to inspect the closed gates. It smells metallic, almost like the blood of a cage fight, clinging to his nostrils in a way that has him making a face and rubbing his nose. In a way, this was just as much of a killyard, albeit one for those that weren’t human.

Fortunately, Jeno’s credentials still work at the gate, although he’s rather certain the interior systems will have changed by now. Not that he let the others know. Maybe he _does_ have ulterior motives for wanting to come here tonight. Jisung’s not here yet, but Jeno has no qualms about closing the gates again. The brat will find a way in, he’s sure.

Now that he’s officially in restricted areas, there are security cameras everywhere, and Jeno sticks to the walls. He manages to slip into the first warehouse undetected, slinking out a side entrance to hit the giant containers out in the side yard. Here, dismantled tech is piled up high in various dumpsters, conveniently sorted by type, and it doesn’t take him long to find an industrial sized wire coil. Jeno slings it casually over one arm, making his way back to the gates, where a hooded figure paces impatiently. He smirks. It’s Jisung.

“Yo,” he greets, and Jisung startles, reaching for a knife, before realizing who it was.

“Asshole,” the younger man mutters in reply, waving a hand impatiently. “Let me in?”

Jeno leans up against the wall, grinning widely as he hikes the coil higher up his shoulder. “And if I say no?” Shit, he’s missed fucking with Jisung.

Jisung glowers at him, but eyes up the chain link fence, all twelve feet of it, and topped with barbed wire to boot. He bounces up and down on his feet a few times before taking a running leap, gloved hands hooking into the wire and flipping himself over the fence, arching cleanly over the barbs with nary a graze.

Jeno lets out a slow whistle at the acrobatics. He knew the younger was light on his feet, but this was something else. “Still making those parkour runs, huh?” He laughs when all he gets in reply is a growl and two middle fingers, but goes in for the hug anyway. “This definitely brings back memories, dude.”

Jisung clasps him gruffly back on the shoulder before shoving Jeno off, clearly all the affection he could handle at the moment. “Whatever.”

Jeno’s right though, it _has_ been a long time since they’ve run the streets together, even before Mark recruited them both. Jeno used to supply Jisung with the occasional shopped up piece of tech from the supply depot, fixing things that clearly weren’t terribly broken so the younger could hawk them off on the streets for triple their worth. It was a sweet side gig, at least until Jeno was let go, quite unfairly in his opinion, but it did mean he’d fallen out of touch with Jisung and into hard times.

Jisung tosses him an earpiece, which Jeno catches with his free hand. “You forgot this at our place, hyung.” Jeno makes a face but slots it into his ear anyway. He’s never seen the point of having tech support, honestly, especially not with how often the others mostly use it for mindless chatter, but it’s not like he can refuse it now. Soon enough, the voices come flooding in.

“—k you too, who told you to eat the last of my snacks anyway?”

“Look, I already offered to buy you more—”

“It’s the principle of the thing!”

“Chenle?” Jisung interrupts. “Which side is the door we need on?” He taps his comms, quickly muting everyone else’s lines for both of them. Jeno shoots him a grateful look as they walk down the next alley.

“Check Warehouse 6, you should be able to open its eastbound door from the inside, and your van was parked right outside.”

Jeno tilts his head back to stare at the large painted numbers above them, jogging down and tapping on a different building. “This one.”

“Alright, thanks Lele.”

“Anytime, Sungie!” The hacker chirps cheerfully, and Jisung mutes their comms again.

Jeno knows he might be goading Jisung into punching him in the face again, but he can’t resist. “‘Sungie’?”

Even in such dim lighting, Jeno can see the faint tinge of red across his cheeks. “Shut it,” Jisung snaps.

Jeno snickers as they wait for the Haumbot patrolling to trundle past before entering the warehouse and crouching behind the assembly line in the middle of the room. “He still hasn’t wised up to how you feel yet, huh? How long’s it been? Six years?”

Jisung’s frown becomes more pronounced as he watches the blond tug out a huge battery from underneath a pile of junk in one of the crates nearby. “Seven, actually,” he answers sullenly, taking the battery from Jeno with a grunt. “Jesus, this is heavy, you sure they won’t notice if you stuff this thing inside our bot?” He clambers onto the assembly line to avoid the Haumbot’s line of sight.

Jeno easily jumps up to grab onto the bottom rung of a nearby ladder, hauling himself up onto the grated walkway lining the walls of the warehouse with a loud clang. Luckily, the security bot down there doesn’t have any audio sensors as he rolls back both shoulders, letting the coil fall to the walkway floor.

“I gutted the thing last night,” he replies easily before lunging over the side of the walkway and landing in a crouch on one of the long LED strips hanging from the ceiling. Jeno quickly drops to his belly, clinging onto the precariously swinging light with all four limbs as Jisung stares warily from beneath him.

Sixty feet up in the air, a drop from this distance would definitely kill him.

But that's part of the fun, isn't it?

“So, you gonna tell him sometime soon?”

Jisung scoffs. “Of course not. No way in hell that sort of thing would go over well.”

_Aw, what a downer. It’d be entertaining, at the very least._

As soon as the damn light stops swinging from side to side, Jeno carefully gets to his feet again, this time rocking the light forward until it’s close to smashing into the next one, letting him carefully step onto that light, hands gripped tight around the wires suspending the LEDs from the ceiling. His heart is beating loudly in his ears, boots slipping against the greased plastic, and yet his daredevil grin stretches from ear to ear. “Sucks to be you then, Jisung.” Jeno eyes the distance. Maybe… yes, that should work. “Sometimes you’ve just gotta take that leap of faith.” He dives off the lights, palms hitting the steel railing of the walkway on the opposite wall so hard he’s almost tempted to let go again, but his entire body is suspended in midair, so he can only grit his teeth against the sting and stretch a leg up to haul himself over the railing and collapse onto the walkway.

Jeno lays there for a moment, letting his heartbeat slow back down, eyes shut against the frankly addictive adrenaline rush. Below him, still curled up on the assembly line, still clutching that beast of a battery, Jisung wheezes. “Are you _insane_?”

Jeno grins cheerfully, sitting up and squinting at the locked door to the lab. It’s where they used to handle the more delicate tech, wiping it of all prior data so it could be reused if it was still salvageable, and left to be binned if it wasn’t. There’s no way they don’t have an HVDC converter in here, but he also won’t be able to get through the biometric lock on the door, not unless… hm.

Whose comms channel does Jeno open?

[Chenle.]

[Haechan.]

[Mark.]

[ **Renjun**.]

Who will break into HSBC?

[ **Jeno**.]

[Jisung.]

[Renjun.]

Who will go with them?

[Chenle.]

[ **Jaemin**.]

[Mark.]


	28. Robot Wars, Part III

Jeno toggles to Renjun’s channel, gratified when the other promptly replies. “What’s up?”

Jeno quickly takes a picture of the lock and sends it over. “Got one of these in front of me. If I plug in, can you unlock it?”

Renjun snorts, the sound crackling over the line into Jeno’s ear. “If I could, we’d have a hell of an easier time getting into the main building, don’t you think? Just do what you do best.” Jeno can almost imagine his toothy grin. “Hulk smash.”

Jeno frowns. “It won’t set off any alarms.”

“Nah,” Renjun replies distractedly. “Turning those off for you right now. Okay, go.”

Jeno thinks about it for a second before winding up and punching the digital screen. His steel-reinforced gloves shatter the glass easily enough, barely any recoil zinging up his arm, and then it’s simple work to yank out the wires underneath the screen, the lock disengaging as it dies. He turns the knob and finds himself in a relatively clean lab area.

“Jeno,” Renjun’s exasperated voice comes through the comms. “I didn’t mean for you to _punch_ the damn thing. _You have a gun._ ”

“That would’ve been too loud,” Jeno disagrees. “Who knows if someone would’ve come running.”

“Ah.” A pause as Jeno strides to a workbench and starts digging through the cabinets. “Is your hand okay?”

“Renjun,” Jeno replies in amusement. “I dislocate jaws for a living.” Ah, jackpot. He climbs out from under the table and back out onto the walkway, gesturing to Jisung below to dodge the Haumbot and join him outside.

“Whatever.” Angry muttering comes from his earpiece, too low for Jeno to make out the words. “See if I ask again.” Cute.

This side of the warehouse leads to a ladder on the back wall, inside a different junkyard, and Jeno hops down to put the EMP bomb together as Jisung drives the van closer and wheels the bot in. Once it’s been placed amidst its silent brethren, Jeno and Jisung pause to stare at it.

“What are you two still doing there?” Chenle demands impatiently, overriding their comms. “I’ve processed it to be shipped out immediately in a few hours, and the workers are going to catch you if you stand there any longer. Hurry up.”

Jeno exchanges a fistbump with Jisung. Mission: success.

* * *

_Meanwhile…_

Haechan paces inside the warehouse, gnawing at the end of his thumb, letting the sound of his boots echo off the walls. There’s no one around to hear him, luckily. Most uninteresting thing he’s done yet, if he’s being honest. He’s bored. He already has the manual keyed up, and he’s only waiting for the model numbers from Jaemin so he can run the default codes.

What he needs now is Chenle.

The thing is, Haechan is already pretty sure he knows what they’re going to dig out of HSBC tonight, if the rumors he’s been overhearing from his uncle are true. The thing is, if those experimental prototypes are as far along in development as he suspects they are, it means HSBC’s been naughty for far longer than anyone predicted, and he’s in the perfect place to dig.

His comms finally beep. “‘Sup.”

“Finally,” Haechan sighs. “Did you see what I sent you?”

There’s a pause. “You said you had another request for the Referee,” Chenle intones, suddenly businesslike again. “You just sent me every single record HSBC has had on file in the past three decades. This is a _lot_ of data to parse.”

Haechan waves him off. “It’s fine, I can pay, I just need to know if there were any spikes in requests in the weeks leading up to the original DedSec raid.” He thinks back to the reports he’d seen on TV, the rubble of the building the NIS had torn to shreds in their attempt to ‘subdue the terrorists’. “Biometric locks, basic security, anything like that.”

Another pause. “...You’re fully capable of finding this information yourself,” Chenle begins carefully.

“I know. But I also know you have better ways of hiding your tracks. I'm hiring you for the secrecy.”

Chenle sighs. “Fine. I’ll take a look.”

Haechan doesn’t know what they’re going to find tonight, but he has a bad feeling it’s going to irreversibly change things.

* * *

When Jeno arrives at HSBC’s headquarters, he finds Jaemin sitting cross-legged on a stone bench outside the imposing buildings, eyes closed, exuding more serenity than he’s seen from him in a long time. His eye-catchingly pink hair is hidden under a black cap, but when he opens his eyes at Jeno’s approach, his gaze is shockingly blue.

“Contacts,” Jaemin answers his unspoken question with a smile, in lieu of a greeting. “One of them is an eye cam, kind of like the one Renjun has.” He shrugs casually. “Figured it’d be useful for whatever we find in there tonight.”

Jeno nods awkwardly, not sure what to say. The last time he’d talked to the other, Jaemin had looked supremely shaken by something Renjun must have said, and this return to his normal confidence is both jarring and comforting in equal parts. He wonders why Jaemin is still here, in all honesty. Jeno knew about the deal he’d cut with Mark, how things should’ve ended with Haum. But there’s no more time to muse over his mysterious partner. They have things to do.

“I’ve already steered the bot into the basement,” Jaemin gestures at the screen of a laptop he’s pulled out of nowhere. “As soon as I detonate the EMP, the power’s going to go out. When the backup generators come on, the doors are going to reset to the default codes, which Haechan will send us. We need to get upstairs to the technology wing and download all the project files from the server room. Ready?”

Jeno shrugs. “Go ahead.” Jaemin types a line of code in, and in a single glorious moment, they are plunged into darkness. Standing smoothly and packing the laptop back in, Jeno and Jaemin walk briskly past the befuddled employees to the side entrance, Jeno taking a picture of the lock’s product code.

 _4545_ , reads the text message he receives from Haechan. Jeno shares a glance with Jaemin. They’re in.

“Looks like all those self-defense lessons came in handy, huh?” Jaemin pants, sinking down onto his knees as he watches Jeno truss up the unconscious guards. The sting in the idol’s knuckles is an unfamiliar pain, but he’d made good use of the uppercut the boxer had taught him.

Jeno doesn’t spare him a glance. “I’m not surprised. You were a fast learner.”

Jaemin laughs slightly. “I’ve done stunt work before, just basic stuff for music videos though. It wasn’t too difficult to build on that.”

Besides, no matter the pain, it’s better than a gun. He doesn’t think he could kill someone.

_Unfortunately for Jaemin, Umeni guards won’t have the same misgivings._

There’s a quirk to Jeno’s lips as he tests the guards’ bonds and deems them secure enough. “Have a little pride, would you?” He quips, the words falling from his mouth like a line he’s memorized. “You did well.” The blond offers a hand to Jaemin, pulling him to his feet. The server room had been easy enough to access, and Renjun had exclaimed with glee at something he’d found in the blueprints.

“Which way do we go from here again?”

Renjun sighs impatiently. “I _said_ , you should be close to a private lift in the CEO’s office. My files don’t show where it goes, which means it’s exactly what we’re looking for.”

Jeno snorts. “So, up.”

They make it to the lavish office without being seen by anyone else. There’s only one floor underground that they can go to, sublevel 6, and Jaemin quickly jabs the button, stomach dropping as the elevator immediately descends. “Any idea where this leads?”

Renjun hums noncommittally. “I’m still reading through this ‘10-year plan’ drivel right now, but I think you’re going to some prototype lab. Good luck figuring out what they’ve got brewing down there.”

“And then smash the shit out of it,” Chenle interrupts cheerfully.

“What he means is, find and record evidence that HSBC is up to no good,” Mark adds, tone brooking no room for argument.

“Well if you want to get _technical_ , sure,” Chenle complains in a mocking voice.

The lift shudders to a halt, and the doors open on a dimly lit parking garage-looking facility. Everything is concrete and steel, and looks like it was made to last a nuclear explosion. Jeno’s immediately on edge.

There are multiple viewing booths in the room, display stands mounted on walls next to windows shuttered with slabs of reinforced steel. With a few lines of code tapped into the monitor on the wall, Jaemin opens the first window.

The display behind the window appears to be a regular shooting range, although set up at one end is a weaponized bot. Jeno flinches as a woman’s voice suddenly blares through hidden speakers. It’s a prerecorded message.

“Within the next two years, HSBC will begin field testing assault and defense capabilities of our robots for use in both domestic and military situations.” The bot in front of them begins to unfold, revealing two guns built into its arm structures that aim down the length of the shooting range.

A steady stream of bullets pounds into the far wall, still audible through the bulletproof glass Jaemin and Jeno stand behind. “Featuring reliable accuracy and superior reflexes, our robots will provide safer alternatives to soldiers or security personnel.”

The targets at the far end of the shooting range are all but vaporized.

Jaemin takes a deep breath. Suddenly, he’s not sure he wants to know what’s behind the other viewing stations. The next display unfurls.

“One of our long-term goals for HSBC robotics is to construct armor capable of withstanding the strongest ballistic attacks in a combat scenario,” the same woman announces placidly. “In domestic security situations, these new models will easily be able to withstand small projectile attacks, molotov cocktails, and other improvised riot weaponry.” A pitching machine repeatedly launches hand grenades at an armored bot hunkering down under a shield.

Jaemin scoffs. “Domestic security situations? You mean the right to protest some clearly unjust practices?” He whirls around to face his teammate. “Jeno, they’re making killing machines.”

The blond is staring stonily into the last display. “Look.”

There is a half-crushed car beyond the viewing window, and even as they watch, a massive pair of robotic pincers pound down on the car, punching holes in the metal exterior. “While the current HSBC watcher robots have limited offensive capability,” that same eerily calm voice begins, “we plan to fit them for a much more active role in conflict zones over the next several years. We’re currently testing damage resistance within urban suppression contexts.”

Each blow against the car rings through Jeno’s ears, and suddenly he is furious, fists clenching so hard his fingernails imprint grooves into his gloves. He can barely hear the next sentence over the white rage in his head. “We’re also in negotiations with SpaceX to build walkers for their space program.”

There are enough parts around, Jeno thinks faintly. Most likely further in the lab, and if he can find something to use as fuel for the explosive… He’s brought out of the white noise in his head by the warmth of a hand wrapping around his wrist.

Jaemin’s not looking at him though, staring blankly in front of them. “Is that enough footage for you, Renjun?”

A gust of staticky air blows through their comms. When Renjun speaks again, he sounds like he’s aged a decade. “Yeah. HSBC planning on putting ctOS functionality into armed robots and using them against civilians? That’s more than enough to use. Go ahead and get out of there now.”

Jaemin nods and turns off the comms, but suddenly he finds that his hand is entrapped in Jeno’s. “No,” the blond says simply, jerking his head at a reinforced door. “There’s more.”

Jaemin fidgets slightly, but Jeno’s gaze remains steady. He wants to get out of here, before something goes wrong, but Jeno seems steadfast on trying to find out what’s happening further inside the lab. “We have enough on them already, right?” Jaemin tries hesitantly, but Jeno shakes his head.

“They’re still hiding something, they have to be. And this might be our only chance to find out what.” Jeno steps closer, and Jaemin can see the desperation in his eyes. To do what, he’s not sure. “Please, Jaemin. They’re planning something awful, and unless we can find out what it is, we’ll have no chance of fighting back when it’s fully functional.”

“But we’re stopping them, aren’t we?”

Jeno is already shaking his head before the words even finish falling from Jaemin’s lips. “It’ll only delay the inevitable. We can take down one corporation at a time, but there will always be something worse waiting to pop up in its place. We’re going to need all the advantages we can get, if we don’t want to be the next tally on their body count. _I_ don’t want to fall at their hands.”

“Jeno…” Jaemin whispers, still hesitant, fingers tightening around Jeno’s.

What does Jaemin decide to do?

**[Explore the rest of the lab.]**

[Leave HSBC.]

* * *

It took Haechan only a moment to text Jeno back. “Got anything yet?”

“Cool your jets,” Chenle snaps back. It’s far from the first time he’s asked, after all. “Didn’t find anything with the locks, but there’s a hefty little order to the closest constable’s office for… stun gun upgrades?” He lets out a low whistle. “Damn, that voltage seems overkill. Sending the dates over to you.”

“Thanks.” Haechan immediately begins hacking into the office, tapping furiously as he breaches through their firewalls.

“Anytime.” Chenle mutes his channel.

Now that Haechan has a closer estimate of when the police had received their tip-off, maybe he’ll be able to find out what led to DedSec’s destruction. He knows Mark thinks it has something to do with ERGO, but Haechan’s hunches are leading him in a different direction, running down the lists of phone calls recorded. It’s all a mess, to be honest, encrypted to hell and back, and he gets to work. If he can just figure out who tipped off the police...

The phone numbers slowly begin scrolling across Haechan’s laptop screen as his algorithm chews through the records. He doesn’t recognize any of them, at least not until his eyes snag across a familiar string of digits and he can’t move, can’t breathe. No, this has to be a mistake. There’s no way.

At the same time, his phone rings. On his caller ID, the phone number displayed mirrors the one flashing across his computer screen. He’s frozen, throat dry, hand hovering over his phone, mind completely blank as the caller leaves a voicemail.

It’s a very familiar voice, one Haechan knows as well as his own. “Donghyuck-ah.”

“Mark,” Haechan croaks out, and it hangs in the silence of the empty warehouse, just him and a grave he never should have unearthed.

 _Mark Lee_ , he repeats in his head, because there are some things that can’t be said out loud, not even to himself. _Did you kill your brother?_


	29. Robot Wars, Part IV

Jisung slips out of the room once Renjun starts bickering with Jeno over the lines, following Chenle into the bathroom. Mark glances at them once, but he’s long since resigned himself to the pair’s idiosyncrasies. Good. It makes it easier to hide things.

As soon as the water starts running, concealing conversation from any potential listening devices, Chenle’s cheerful expression vanishes, the neutral mask of the Referee settling into the ridges of his face. The transformation fascinates him every time he sees it, the way Chenle pulls on such an authoritative persona and Jisung feels himself straighten up slightly in response. This is the Chenle he trusts to take care of himself.

_This_ is the Referee.

“We got another job from our mutual friend,” Chenle informs him tonelessly, using the moniker they’d assigned to Haechan for the time being. “Parsing data he pulled from the HSBC warehouse. He took advantage of the brief blackout to access headquarters, too.”

Jisung shrugs. Par for the course, for their line of business.

“He was interested in the information flow around the time of the DedSec raid,” Chenle adds, a glint in his eye.

_Oh._ Jisung leans forward in interest. “Found anything?”

Chenle leans back against the door, raising an eyebrow mischievously. “Remember how it was always presumed that NIS figured out where DedSec was on their own? Turns out they were tipped off.”

Jisung inhales sharply. It’s not a surprise that there were snitches in the digital underground, but DedSec was generally presumed to be the goody two shoes of the bunch. They had a lot of supporters, and even the darker hackers like Ten who hated their agenda generally agreed, however reluctantly, that their actions would benefit all. With a reputation like that, those who would try to take down DedSec from within were few and far between.

“How did our friend know what to look for?”

Chenle shrugs carelessly. “No idea. I had to destroy my own traces before he backtracked and found that I was tapping him, and, well, we are in the middle of a mission right now, so.”

“You think he found what he was looking for?”

Before Chenle can respond, a sharp knock comes from the other side of the door. It’s Mark. He sounds strained. “Get back here, you two. Something’s happened.”

* * *

As soon as they enter the last set of doors, it’s obvious their decision to keep searching in the lab was well justified.

“What the fuck is that?” Jaemin breathes warily, grip tightening around the gun in his hand. The massive room appears to be a build site, equipment stored in giant metal containers stacked throughout the room, and atop one pedestal stands a massive robotic crawler, eight clunky legs like a man-made spider.

“Oh _man_ ,” Renjun chokes out, watching through Jaemin’s iris cam.

“No way,” Jeno whispers back, although his eyes are alight with excitement. They make their way into the small room nearby, beelining immediately towards the joystick set up in the center of the control station.

“Damn, why do they get to play with all the cool toys?” Chenle complains over the comms, but no one responds as Jeno jerks the controls slightly, watching the spider bot’s eyes light up red.

“Systems online,” that same pleasant female voice announces, and then the robot’s on the move, agile as hell despite its size and material. It’s a sturdy thing, clearly designed for heavy warfare, and Jaemin’s not looking forward to testing out the artillery on that thing. It appears to have its own cameras, too, judging by the monitor display in front of them.

“Alright,” Jeno declares, hands wrapped tightly around the controls. “I think I’ve got this beast all figured out. Just have to get it through these security doors.” He jerks his chin towards the opposite end of the hall, where two more massive doors stand, reinforced stainless steel mirroring the ones they came through, except these are locked. “Any ideas?”

“If you knock out the fire suppression system, the doors should open as a failsafe,” Renjun informs them, and their eyes turn towards the red panels on the walls.

“Easy.” A feral grin, and then they’re off.

As the first round of gunfire goes off, a new obstacle appears.

“Guards,” Jaemin informs him, standing nervously with his gun aimed at the ground, eyes focused on the monitors. The men are shooting the spider bot, although barely any bullets ping off the sturdy exoskeleton. For something its size, it really is nimble. HSBC had outdone themselves.

_Not exactly a good thing._

Jeno shrugs, maneuvering the mechanical beast onto the ceiling, punching in another glass panel and setting the sprinklers off. “It’s a massive armored robot, it’ll be fine.”

While fending the wary guards off, Chenle checks in with them. “We’ve got a problem. Looks like the door to the backup servers is still closed.”

“I’ll handle it,” Renjun replies distractedly. “Go ahead and take care of the prototypes from before.”

Jeno directs the bot back into the earlier rooms, shooting at and destroying the defense bots and the giant pincers. Jaemin winces at the sight as another guard steps into view of the robot before being immediately gunned down, crimson patches blossoming through the dark uniform. He’d like to think that the Umeni guards will survive but…

At least Jeno was only shooting the ones who got in his way and not hunting them down.

_Yet._

“Door’s open! There should be an elevator. You’ll need to find your way up to the backup servers on sublevel 3.”

But there’s just one problem.

“That bot is _not_ going to fit in the elevator.”

“Then I’ll go,” Jaemin speaks up determinedly, rolling his shoulders back. “I’ll sneak up there and destroy the server room, if Jeno can distract the guards so they don’t notice.”

Jeno glances quickly at him, but Jaemin seems resolved, tugging his mask up more securely over his nose, those unfamiliarly blue eyes winking back at him. “Be safe,” Jeno warns. It’s as much concern as he’s willing to express right now.

Even while masked, Jeno knows Jaemin is smiling back, nervous energy pulling him up on the balls of his feet. “You told me to have a little pride in myself, yeah? I’ll be fine.”

The massive boom pulls them back into the present, and the ground shakes beneath them. “Reinforcements, huh.” Jeno snorts contemptuously. “With explosives, too.” Guess their little masterpiece was too much for them to handle, too.

* * *

There are small fires breaking out in various locations of the room now. Chemical spills, most likely, kept in check by the sprinklers still going off overhead. Jaemin skirts warily around them, the stench of grease in the air, but luckily, Jeno had made good on his end of the deal, and most of the reinforcements were clustered at the far end of the hall.

Jaemin clambers up on a huge tank of oil, kicking up onto the walkway leading towards the other exit. As he turns the corner, the elevator lies at the end of the hallway, and he doesn’t waste any time prying the doors open. The lift itself is still up on the first floor, which means Jaemin could easily climb up through the shaft onto sublevel 3 if—

“Gotcha,” a voice sneers from behind Jaemin, and he turns around to find a Umeni guard aiming a gun at him.

—if he didn’t get caught. Jaemin slowly raises his hands, gun holstered in his waistband, blood roaring loudly in his ears, but the guard doesn’t waver. The shot fires, but Jaemin had already begun diving out of the way, rolling forward the way Jeno had taught him before ending up on his knees.

There’s no pain. He’s unhurt. He hasn’t been shot.

But the guard hadn’t missed.

The two men stare at each other in horror as a low hissing begins building up. Jaemin chances a look behind him, but there are visible vapors escaping already from the elevator shaft, the bullet having clearly penetrated a gas line.

A gas line. In a work area with so many highly flammable materials, and the heat of the gun, and Jaemin’s mind is whirling as he claws his way off the ground to his feet, diving, tackling the guard away as he _runs_ , because they have to get away, get as far as they can, he has to warn Jeno—

_BOOM._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlocked: omake!
> 
> Mark’s eyes widen, one finger over his earpiece, as he watches the news ticker slide across the television screen. HSBC Service Depot Goes Up In Flames, the graphic reads. Cause Undetermined. “Lee Jeno. The fuck did you do.”


	30. Mercy Kill, Part I

If you had asked Jeno how he escaped the building after the gas explosion, Jaemin’s battered and bloody frame hanging limply in his arms, so utterly lifeless and _frail_ , he wouldn’t have an answer for you, nothing but the bright buzz of white noise circling every thought he couldn’t even begin to form, utter panic clogging each tangent he tries to chase.

It’s a blur, those next few moments, Mark breaking every traffic law known to man to get them home, Jisung and Haechan gently, so gently, prying Jaemin out of his grip, frantic exchanges between Chenle and Renjun over his head as he sits frozen on the couch, blood tacky on his palms, shock cool in his veins.

If Jeno strains his ears, he can almost hear the ripping of fabric as Jisung cuts Jaemin out of his jacket, the leather one he’d loved so much. Propane, his brain recites back to him, a pressurized gas, extremely flammable, that forms explosive mixtures with the air. When it contacted the grease fires Jeno had set in the main hall, he had been half-shielded by the sturdy control room, all concrete and shatterproof glass, but it’d done nothing for Jaemin, who had been caught in the first blast, studded with shrapnel as he was now.

If that metal had hit anything vital, if it had sliced into his _spine_ … Jeno flinches at the broken sound that cuts through the heated discussion behind him. He’s distantly surprised to realize that it comes from _him_. Within seconds, there are nimble fingers carding through his grease-stained hair, the gentle motion soothing in its repetition.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Renjun informs him, somehow knowing exactly what to say.

“And yet it feels like it anyways.”

“It’s not,” Renjun insists, but the rest of his sentence is drowned out by a shout from the bedroom where Jaemin lays, bleeding out. Because he wasn’t fast enough. Wasn’t close enough.

“Chenle! I need you to hack into Jaemin’s medical file!”

The younger man bolts out of the living room, and Renjun slowly walks around the couch, sinking down next to Jeno. He doesn’t speak again, but his hand stays tight on Jeno’s knee, nails digging lightly into his stained jeans, and the slight pain is grounding enough. For now.

Until Renjun stops squeezing, at the sound of footsteps coming from the front door, and Jeno looks up to see the last person he would’ve expected to walk in.

“Boys,” Ten drawls. “Where’s the invalid?”

* * *

“Absolutely not,” Haechan grits through his teeth, standing in the doorway, even as Mark puts a cautioning hand on his shoulder and Jisung continues to methodically pry shards of metal out of Jaemin’s mauled back, ignoring the standoff happening behind him.

To his credit, at least, even Mark is understandably wary. “Kun?”

“Jaemin can’t go to a hospital,” Kun responds mildly. “Not in his current state, considering who he is. You asked me to fetch a medic. Ten has the training.”

“He’ll kill him,” Haechan hisses, whirling around to turn to Mark, whose eyes remain on Kun.

Ten sighs impatiently. “Look, I’m not here out of the kindness of my fucking heart. I won’t kill your precious pup, but if you don’t let me look at him, he’s not going to need me to help him along.”

Kun remains quiet, and so Mark is the one to speak up. “Haechan, let’s go.”

“Mark, you can’t be serious—”

“Let’s _go_ , Haechan.”

* * *

“Kun, if I need to recompense you—”

“No need, Mark.” A pause. “He merely demanded a moment of my time.”

* * *

Jaemin doesn’t need to open his eyes to know he’d rather be unconscious again. His back is on _fire_ , searing agony with every shallow breath he takes, excruciating pain like nothing he’s ever felt before, and he can’t help the small whimper he lets out. There’s a rustle from beside him, where he lies on his belly, before a towel rests against his lips.

“Open your mouth,” an unfamiliar but familiar voice orders, and Jaemin obeys, coarse cloth between his teeth. Even if he wanted to move against the heat screaming down his spine, he wouldn’t be able to, not with such a firm grip on both his arms. Someone is pinning him in place. Multiple someones. “This is going to hurt.”

And then Jaemin is thrashing wildly, bucking against the hands holding him down, and so so grateful for the towel he muffles his scream in as what feels like white-hot knives dig into his back before sensation leaves again. He moans in pain, saliva soaking into the towel, lashes heavy with unbidden tears.

“Sorry, brat,” the voice returns, melodic but grim. “We’re just getting started.”

* * *

Even muffled, Jaemin’s screams of pain are audible in the dead silence of the living room, and Jeno represses an answering flinch as Haechan’s grip tightens painfully, the bones in his own hand rubbing uncomfortably against one another. But pain he’d gladly welcome in spades if there was any chance he could take Jaemin’s away. Despite Renjun’s best efforts, Jeno keeps replaying the moments before everything went to shit in his head. If he hadn’t sent Jaemin to the elevator alone. If he had taken out the guards before they could call for reinforcements. If he h—

“He’s going to be fine,” Haechan announces firmly, voice shaking more than his hand. Jeno glances up, but Mark and Renjun are deep in conversation on the other side of the room, and Chenle is curled against the wall, laptop flipped open even though his hands remain still for once.

“He’s going to be fine,” Haechan repeats in a whisper, and Jeno realizes with a start that the comment wasn’t meant for him.

“He’s stronger than this,” the masked man continues, voice soft enough that his voice modifier doesn’t alter his original timbre, and his voice is much softer, kinder, than Jeno had expected. “It looks worse than it is.”

Jeno hums neutrally, unused to the role of comforting another. “Jaemin is… He’s the best of us. He’ll pull through.” He has to.

Before he can fumble through anything else, Ten reappears in the living room, drawing everyone’s attention. He’s alone, blood smeared up to his elbows, and a grim look in his eyes, that mocking smirk nowhere to be found. “We have a problem.”

* * *

“Allergies.”

“Allergies,” Ten agrees, remarkably civil after his third pull of whiskey. The rest of the team are still understandably wary, but at least the guns aren’t drawn where anyone can see. “According to his charts, the brat’s allergic to every antibiotic I have access to. Looks like he’s taken lincomycin for injuries before, but that’s not something we can find on the fly. And the kid needs them soon, because I extracted all the shrapnel, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been sitting with disgusting metal buried in his back for much longer than he should have. He’s more likely to die of an infection at this point, and you need to put him on meds.

“Do you know anyone who has stores?”

Ten snorts, downing what’s left in his glass and rising to his feet in one fluid motion. “Nope. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. The kid won’t die immediately, and that’s all I can promise.” He’s gone as abruptly as he had come.

* * *

“So we rob a hospital.”

“We are _not_ robbing a hospital,” Renjun argues back. “If we steal the medication of someone who legitimately needs them, we’re only trading one life for another.”

“Then a pharmaceutical company? But we’d have to do it fast.”

“As soon as we can,” Jeno agrees, gauging everyone’s reactions around the room.

“I… might have a way,” Mark begins slowly, frowning down at his laptop. “One of my assignments with ERGO is overseeing their advances into other markets, including pharmaceuticals.”

“The e-shipping magnate wants to sell drugs online, too?”

“Yes,” Mark confirms. “I’ve been upping server security at Parker BioTech in preparation for the merger as a consultant, of sorts. They manufacture the medication we need, and I have the credentials to get you into their labs.”

“Wait, you said ‘you’? Why can’t you nab them when you’ll be onsite already?” Haechan demands, suspicious as always.

Mark’s expression shutters unpleasantly. “There have been… complications at work lately. You’ll have to go in separately from me.”

Haechan glares at him. “So what, you just sneak us into the labs and then pray we don’t get caught?”

Mark ignores the jab with practiced ease. “You’ll be able to hack into the mainframe much more easily once you are physically connected to the system. I’ll leave you a backdoor to take advantage of, although I can’t guarantee that the security hole will be present for more than a short window of time. I’ll be connected to the comms in case you need anything, but I won’t be able to help you sneak into the server farms.”

Mark arches an eyebrow at Haechan’s sullen posture. “With any luck, you should have Jaemin’s medication within a few hours.”


	31. Mercy Kill, Part II

The grip on Jisung’s hand is clammy and weak, but at least it’s there. “They’ll come back,” Jisung informs the man lying prone in front of him. Jaemin’s still feverish, hovering on the brink of consciousness, but he’s making a visible effort to focus on Jisung’s words. His injuries had been as severe as Ten had predicted, infection burning through his system until his eyes were glassy.

“Who left?” Jaemin’s voice is weak, and Jisung leans in to hear his whisper.

“Haechan and Renjun left with Mark,” Jisung replies promptly. “They’ll be back before you know it.” He hesitates, wanting to say more, but remains silent as Jaemin blinks slowly in acknowledgement, fading into a delirious sleep again.

Jisung stays until Jaemin’s grip goes slack again, but when he slips out of the room, Jeno is still there, motionless but clearly on edge.

“How is he?” Jeno asks, and Jisung shrugs.

“You could go in to see him, you know.” But Jeno is already disappearing down the hall.

Jisung sighs, clenching empty fists in his pockets. There was no room for feelings in their line of business. But they needed to get those antibiotics back soon. For all their sakes.

* * *

“I don’t like this.” Renjun frowns at his reflection, resisting the urge to flex his feet. The suit is uncomfortable. Restrictive. Far too proper.

“Well, get used to it.” Haechan brushes imaginary dust off his shoulders, dressed in an equally dapper suit, fluffy brown hair completely visible for once, even if he’s traded out his normal mask for a slightly plainer one. “We have to pretend to be Mark’s associates, or else they won’t even let us in through the front doors.” Unlike Renjun, he wears his with ease, like it’s something he’s pulled on a thousand times before.

“I still don’t like it.” Renjun gingerly prods his stiffly sculpted hair, flinching at the sudden click of a camera. He turns to glare at Haechan. “The fuck are you taking pictures for?”

Haechan laughs in his face. “Jaemin’s going to want to see this, obviously.” He sobers up quickly. “We’ll show him after he wakes up.”

Renjun dips his head silently in acknowledgement.

He almost bumps into Jeno on his way out, the boxer doing a double take at his outfit.

“What?” Renjun snaps defensively, tone sharp enough that Jeno raises his hands in surrender.

“Nothing, just…” The blond continues to stare. “You look different.”

Renjun snorts, tugging uneasily at one sleeve. “I know.”

“You look scarier now,” Jeno offers teasingly, black mood lightening, but Renjun senses it anyway.

“What’s got _you_ all riled up?”

Jeno’s expression quickly shutters again. “Nothing.”

And Renjun would love to pry further, but Haechan has reappeared in an honest-to-god fedora, and by the time he turns back around, Jeno is nowhere to be seen.

* * *

“You’re late” are Mark’s first words to them as soon as they arrive, stress lines furrowed deep in his brow.

“Well, we’re here now,” Haechan retorts. Renjun stays silent, all too aware of Haechan’s doubts. He doesn’t think Mark’s capable of conspiring to kill his boyfriend, not when he’s so openly affectionate to him, but well, no one had thought Renjun was capable of cruelty either.

Mark visibly brushes aside Haechan’s comments. “Once we get past security at the front desk, we’re headed to my office. Haechan, you need to head to the server farm underground. Use my access. Renjun, cross the street to the other tower and find the stockrooms in the research lab. Haechan should be able to guide you as soon as he gets in,” he orders stonily.

“Aye, aye, captain.” Haechan tips him a two-fingered salute, and they’re off.

“My office first,” Mark explains quietly as soon as they’ve entered the building. “Your covers are as my associates from the tax department, conducting one last review before the merger officially launches. As soon as people think we’re in a meeting—” He breaks off as a blonde woman with a pinched face approaches.

“Mr. Lee,” she sneers. “And company.” She raises an eyebrow at Haechan.

“Allergy season,” the masked man replies blandly.

“Mrs. Kang,” Mark acknowledges, but the lady continues to speak as if he hadn’t said anything at all.

“ _Mr_. Lee, you know things would proceed much more smoothly if you just told us what you hoped to accomplish. What you’ve been looking for.”

Mark smiles harriedly. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now if you’ll excuse me...”

Mrs. Kang sniffs. “Yes, well, I’m sure you’ll be more forthcoming with HR.” She smiles poisonously before walking away.

Mark twitches slightly, as if to shake off the encounter, but no one else stops them on their way.

“So, the trouble at work…” Renjun says hesitantly.

“Yeah,” Mark replies shortly. “She’s had it out for me since I got assigned to Parker.”

“And does she have something on you?” Haechan asks.

Mark remains silent.

* * *

They’ve only just begun discussing their plans in more detail in Mark’s office when he gets called away for an HR meeting. Renjun and Haechan share a glance as security politely but firmly explains that they are to stay in Mark’s office.

_That’s their cue._

“Well, I’m heading down to the server farm now, then,” Haechan gets up, but Renjun stops him.

“I’m not going to be able to help you at all once I get into the lab, and neither will Chenle. Our comms still work, but the only device I have on me is my phone, and this entire complex runs on a closed system, with no internet access whatsoever.”

Haechan snorts. “Please, I can handle myself just fine.”

And sure enough, he can all but stroll right into the elevator with Mark’s credentials. In fact, there’s almost no security at all, which only begs the question… Where’s the trouble at?

* * *

“Fuck,” Renjun curses. “Chenle, do you see this?” He fights the urge to wince as the camera in his contact lens zooms in through the glass door.

“That’s a lot of cameras,” the younger man cheerfully responds. “Don’t worry, I’ve deactivated them. Running a loop of blank hallway for the next three minutes. You better walk fast before you pop out of nowhere on their monitors.”

Renjun inhales, before pushing the doors open and hurrying down the long corridor to Parker BioTech’s storage room. Inside are wall to wall containers of various prescription drugs, all labeled neatly with a computer unit at one desk, presumably to log the withdrawal and deposit of various pharmaceutical experiments.

“Haechan, are you in place?”

“Yeah,” comes the staticky response. “But I need one more security code, and it’s not bundled with the rest of the info Mark gave me. Mark, 5 digits, what are they?”

Silence.

“Chenle, can you find Mark?” Renjun demands. Something feels wrong.

“Mm, his earpiece is working, and I have his GPS, but he’s not responding. Get your phone out, I’ll patch you into the cameras.”

[The vignette view of a small office appears on the screen, presumably from the security camera’s point of view. Mark Lee sits facing the lady from earlier, Mrs. Kang. Audio crackles in.]

“—keystrokes on your computer are evidence enough to put you away,” Mrs. Kang gloats. “But I just want to hear you say it. You have _no_ idea how much pleasure it will bring me to get rid of you.”

Renjun inhales sharply as Mark remains silent on-screen. “Haechan. You seeing this?”

“...Yeah.”

“Chenle, can you get his attention somehow? Set off the other electronics in the room,” Renjun orders quietly, one eye on his phone and one on the door.

Immediately, the speakers next to Mrs. Kang’s desktop blare, and the lights in her office rapidly flicker on and off. Renjun watches nervously as Mark’s attention snaps to the security camera. He knows.

Mrs. Kang stands up in irritation, crossing the room to fuss with the TV, which has also just turned itself on. “This place is a circus! I don’t know why those IT morons wired everything in this building to the same network…” She leaves the room to make a phone call.

As soon as she leaves, Mark gets up to wave slightly at the camera.

“Mark, can you hear us?” The man on-screen nods, but doesn’t speak. “We need the security code.”

Mark quickly grabs a whiteboard off Mrs. Kang’s desk, scrawling a question across it and holding it up to the camera. _Which data port?_

“Haechan,” Renjun relays. “Which data port are you connected to?”

“Server 6.”

Chenle flicks the lights on and off 6 times, and Mark quickly nods in acknowledgment, scribbling out another number onto the board. _43778_.

“I’m in,” Haechan crows triumphantly, just as Mark returns to his seat and Mrs. Kang reenters the room.

Renjun bites his thumb nervously before turning everyone’s lines off so they can’t hear what Renjun says next.. “Haechan. I’m on a private line. What are you going to do about Mark?”

Silence from the other end lasts so long that Renjun double checks to make sure he hadn’t muted himself entirely. “Who says I’m going to do anything?” The other finally asks.

“You’re not just going to leave him out to dry, are you? If he’s been digging through company files—”

“You don’t know that he’s doing it for the team,” Haechan retorts.

“What else _would_ he be getting into trouble for?”

Haechan shrugs. “Why is it our problem?”

Renjun sighs. “You’re in the server room right now and it’ll cost you nothing to somehow wipe whatever that bitch has on him. If you don’t, and he gets arrested, whatever conspiracy you think he’s leading _might_ come to light, but there’s also a chance that it’ll lead back to us and DedSec. If you _do_ help him, he’ll owe you one.”

Another long pause, and then very softly: “Mark was the mole.”

Renjun pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. Leave it to Haechan to drop something this big on him in the middle of a mission. “What?”

“I found a trail. During the HSBC investigation. Mark was the one who tipped the cops off.”

“Are you _sure_?” Renjun demands. “Completely, absolutely, 100% sure?”

“Renjun.” And now Donghyuck’s tone is rising in slight hysteria. “It’s the same number saved in my _phone_. What other explanation can there be?”

_What indeed..._

Renjun shakes his head roughly. “We’ll talk about this later. But whatever you decide to do, I won’t stop you. It’s all in your hands now.”

What does Haechan do?

**[Save Mark.]**

[Don’t save Mark.]


	32. Mercy Kill, Part III

Haechan bites his lip so hard he tastes copper, but his fingers fly over the keys, almost as if they’re out of his control. He’s not sure he’s doing the right thing, he’s not sure he’s _been_ doing the right thing, but all of that comes to an end today. From here on out, his plans will have to change.

“The doors are unlocked,” the masked man relays quietly, packing his laptop and turning to leave. He slips out of the server room, out of the building entirely.

Haechan doesn’t look back.

* * *

“...I know. Mark Lee.” Hearing his own name in an impatient voice, muffled through the heavy door, has Mark snapping out of his mindful daze. The comms are silent, have been so for a few minutes now, and he might be implicated, but he hopes Haechan and Renjun are safe. “These are very serious accusations you’ve been making. I had to prepare a secure room.”

“Well,” Mrs. Kang replies haughtily, “we’ll let the evidence speak for itself.” She sounds confident, and Mark’s heartbeat picks up in response. He has no idea what that bitch might’ve stumbled upon, and he thought he’d done well in wiping all his traces. Although… some of those files _had_ been quite secure, military-level, even, and it wouldn’t be entirely out of reach to say that perhaps he’d set off a digital tripline somehow.

The person who walks through the door is a bit of a surprise, though. Kim Heechul, the department head himself. Mark hasn’t met the man more than twice, but both instances had left him with a decent impression of the man. Well, as decent as you could get in big pharma. Indeed, he looks unhappy to be there, questioning a high-ranking employee who had never stepped out of line before, and the sharp look he shoots Mark seems to cut right through him.

“Mr. Lee, if you’ll follow me.” Behind the director, Mrs. Kang shoots him a triumphant look.

Mark inhales deeply as he follows them out, glancing up at the security camera in the corner. Time to face the music.

* * *

[An hour later…]

“I’m sorry you chose not to cooperate with us,” Director Kim remarks coldly, his displeasure with Mark’s silence clear. “As soon as your computer history has been compiled, I highly suggest you seek legal counsel.” He gestures to the security guard. “Please stay here while I contact the authorities.”

Mark nods in acknowledgement, outwardly calm, heart thudding into his ears. If he really does get arrested here, this is the end of the line for him. For Johnny. For DedSec. At least the information he had been looking for is already safely stored on his personal servers. With enough hints, he’s sure Chenle and Renjun could crack it and pick up the hunt. He has failsafes and few regrets, but oh, what would Donghyuck think of him, to find out everything he’s been hiding? Mark stares down at his clasped hands, clenched tightly around each other to prevent any tells, thinking of the secrets laid to rest at his brother’s grave, the matching gold bands resting in his bank vault, the new team he’s growing to accept, if not outright like, mind wandering...

The phone rings. Heechul answers with a frown. “Yes?” His face changes minutely. “You tracked the keystrokes? I see. Thank you.”

Mark isn’t sure how to read his superior’s expression as the older man stands up, but his eyes are kind again, and Mark feels safe enough to exhale. “Mr. Lee, I am so sorry. Apparently, we’ve made a huge mistake. I—”

Mrs. Kang stands up indignantly behind him, but Heechul doesn’t look away from Mark, who quickly schools his expression into the irritated appearance of an innocent man who’d been wrongly accused. “What a surprise.”

“My apologies, Mark, you are free to go,” Heechul responds warmly, reaching out for a handshake.

Mark smiles blandly. “I’m just glad it’s been sorted.” He has no idea what huge mistake the director is speaking of.

Mrs. Kang fumes. “This has to be a mistake! Where—”

“Sit _down_ , Mrs. Kang.”

* * *

“You swapped out her keystrokes for mine?” Mark asks Renjun when he gets back to his office, the other twirling around aimlessly in his office chair.

“No, that was all Haechan.” He grins toothily. “Guess he did pull through, huh?”

Mark smiles, shaking his head in relief. “Thanks for all that.”

Renjun shrugs carelessly. “We take care of our own,” the hacker drawls, eyes boring into Mark’s. “After all, that’s what DedSec is all about, right?”

Mark smiles uncomfortably, crossing the room to check inside the briefcase. Rows upon rows of tiny pill bottles, neatly labeled, are arranged within, and he can finally relax. All that’s left is for them to get out of here. “Where’s Haechan?”

Renjun shrugs again. It’s Chenle who pipes up over the comms. “He left already, he should be on his way back here now.”

Mark glances back at Renjun, who continues to stare at him with an unreadable expression. “Then let’s get out of here.”

**Mercy Kill: mission complete!**

* * *

Renjun receives a call in the car. “H—”

“Don’t respond. Don’t answer. Just listen.” It’s Haechan. He sounds calm. Too calm.

Mark gives Renjun a curious glance as he smoothly steers them onto the highway. “Something wrong?”

“No,” Renjun replies shortly, cracking open his laptop. “Talking to myself.” He routes his iris cam to the call so the screen of his laptop shows up on Haechan’s end. _What are you doing?_

“Don’t worry about me,” Haechan replies serenely. “In fact, it would probably be better if you just pretend I didn’t tell you anything. About the original DedSec branch, about Mark Lee, about my real identity. I’m leaving the team.”

The words drop frozen into Renjun’s lap, and his fingers still over the keys. He keeps them tapping smoothly through sheer force of will, but all that comes out onto the screen is gibberish. Mark doesn’t notice a thing. _Why?_

“I can’t… I can’t be around him like this anymore,” Donghyuck, because this is _Donghyuck_ now, that soft tone, gentle and husky without the modifier, who confesses, trembling. “I don’t know what his reasons are, but it’s him, I’ve checked a million different angles, and the data doesn’t change. No matter how he might explain it, directly or indirectly, Mark _killed his brother._ And more than that, he’s continued to hide it, so I can’t trust his intentions anymore.” His words break off in a sob.

Renjun stiffens, but he tries to keep all emotion off his face anyway. The rhythmic motion of his fingers continues, as fast as his thoughts whirl in his mind, but Donghyuck isn’t finished yet.

“And despite everything he’s done,” Donghyuck continues, laughing bleakly. “Despite all of it, today I chose him _once again_. And I don’t regret it. Last time, I killed a man. I don’t regret that either. No matter _what_ he’s done, no matter who he is, _I choose him_. Over everything I used to stand for. Over my own _life_. Who the fuck am I anymore? I don’t even know.”

_But you helped him out today for the good of the team_ —

“That’s a lie and you know it, too,” Donghyuck interrupts, and his voice is gaining strength. Renjun has never heard him like this. Brazen, yes. Grating, yes. But even Haechan had never been so self-assured. And that, more than anything, is what Renjun is cowed by.

“I can word it however I want, but _I_ know: when I was exchanging their keystrokes, I wasn’t thinking of the team, I wasn’t thinking of ctOS, hell, I wasn’t even thinking of myself. I was only thinking of him.” He takes a deep breath, the exhale huffing static over their connection. “So I’ve decided. If I’m only going to choose him over everything, even against my better judgment, then I don’t need to know anything else. About his past, about Johnny, about any of it. Not when all it does is keep me up at night.” Ignorance is bliss, and Donghyuck has chosen to be selfish in his own happiness, in retreating back into the lie he holds so dear.

_You’ve chosen your side_. It’s an observation, not a judgment, and as much as Renjun doesn’t understand, doesn’t want to know, he still finds himself wishing the best for a young man who has just found himself overwhelmed.

“I’ve chosen my _grave_.” Donghyuck laughs again, self-deprecatingly. “But I love him, and I always have, and he’s going to kill me one day because of it, but I’m not too sure I care anymore. So. Tell the team whatever you want. Tell _him_ whatever you want. Just make it believable. Jaemin will figure out the truth for himself, I’m sure.” Renjun doesn’t say anything.

“I know you don’t understand my actions, not when you don’t understand my feelings either. Maybe when you fall in love…” He trails off. “I just hope it doesn’t destroy you, too. This is goodbye, Renjun. Send the others my best.”

The line clicks off with no fanfare, before Renjun can type out anything else.

**Haechan: profile deleted! Team members remaining: 6.**

Renjun pauses, absently powering his laptop off, still reeling from the conversation. but Mark gives him no chance to collect himself.

“Everything alright?”

Renjun stays silent for a moment. “Tell me about Donghyuck,” he says instead.

Mark visibly frowns, confused by the non sequitur. “Hyuck? My boyfriend? What about him?”

Renjun nods firmly. “Tell me about him. Your phone calls are so disgustingly sappy and everything.” He shrugs, hoping the movement looks as casual as he intends. “Makes a guy wonder what that’s like.”

Mark flushes to the tips of his ears. “Well, I mean, there’s not much to say. We just met at work one day. He was… he was beautiful, honestly. So I asked him to dinner.” And there is such undistilled awe in his voice that something in Renjun’s chest aches.

“Smooth,” Renjun drawls. No one who sounds like that about someone could kill them, in Renjun’s opinion.

Mark laughs. “I’m as surprised as you are that he accepted, honestly. But we’ve been dating for a few years now, and he’s the nephew of the owner or something, but he doesn’t really spend his time doing anything with the company. Hyuckie is a fashion student, and he spends a lot of time abroad interning with various designers.”

Renjun hums neutrally. “What are you going to do when he finds out about,” he makes a vague hand gesture, “all of this? Aren’t you trying to destroy his family’s legacy, if we expose ERGO?”

Mark sobers, contemplating. “You’re right, he might hate me for it. But what we do uncovering all of this, it’s important. And I think he’d understand that I’m trying to do good, to do right by things.” Mark’s wording is a little strange, and despite his conviction, Renjun remains skeptical.

“You’re not worried about him opposing you?”

“I’m not sure what someone with no experience in coding _could_ do against us while we figure out what ERGO is hiding, but I know him. He’ll hear me out, at the very least. And if he decides my plans aren’t worth it, well... ” Mark shrugs. “I’m not really sure.”

Renjun snorts. Yeah, he knows him alright. But he just has one last question. “And if you had to pick between the two? If you could only have one but not the other, which would it be? Revenge… or Donghyuck?”

[The transmission cuts out suddenly.]

* * *

Mark leans against his car in the garage long after Renjun had walked off to deliver the medication to Ten, musing over their conversation. The younger man had brought up some interesting points, and Mark wonders what had compelled this line of questioning. Perhaps… but no, that can’t be right, what with Donghyuck being in Spain right now. He had checked the flights himself.

_Because it’s not like Haechan didn’t have the skill to fake those, too, eh?_

Mark’s phone rings, and he smiles down at the caller ID. Speak of the devil. “Hyuck-ah,” he greets calmly.

“Baby!” Donghyuck cheers, and yes, Mark thinks, there’s no way his boyfriend could ever know about DedSec. “Guess who’s coming home!”

**Season 1: end!**

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is an interactive au i'm updating weekly on [twitter](https://twitter.com/1vyPrincess), and i've decided to archive it here so it's more accessible. polls with no bolded answers are still live to vote in, so please do check it out ^^


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